Naivety and Nemeses
by IceCreamIceQueen
Summary: Pride & Prejudice AU with a twist. Elsanna, not siblings, no ice powers. Having recently inherited a (very) small fortune, Anna Smith finds herself snubbed by the 'haughty' Kristoff Bjorgman of Norway, and subsequently wooed by the dreamy Hans Bösewicht-Kerl of Almany. For Anna and Hans, it is love at first sight- but if one's life is that simple, one is not truly living...
1. Company Arrives

**Author's Note: So, whilst this is very much inspired by Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, it is not as simple as: Anna= Lizzy and Elsa= Darcy, hate-to-love, THE END (though I think we all know who Hans represents…).**

 **Though I am English myself, and have put many words into the Online Etymology Dictionary (I want to marry that website), I can't promise that every single word and phrase is historically accurate. The primary aim of this is to entertain, so I have not treated this like a history essay. Additionally, Austen was writing at a time when a heroine having 'lustful' thoughts/ behaviours would be quite shocking for a book of that genre. I have taken a little bit more liberty, because I feel like Anna is not quite as sheltered as she appears in Frozen.**

 **I'm gonna stress the 'inspired by Pride and Prejudice' bit again, in case people begin commenting in disappointment at this not being Pride and Prejudice with some character deviation and a bit of homophobia. I like to think twisting it is far more interesting, you don't know the outcome that way…**

 **For reference, 'Almany' is the former name of Germany (well, one of many).**

 **Well, this turned into an essay!**

 **Please read and review!**

' **Don't Sue Me' Disclaimer:**

 **If it sounds like it came from Pride and Prejudice, all rights go to Jane Austen. I do not own Pride and Prejudice.**

 **If it sounds like it came from Frozen, all rights go to the writers of Frozen. I do not own Frozen.**

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that the sole benefit of being orphaned, was the money you consequently inherited.

At a time when a woman's financial status either trapped her in a cage or let her spread her wings, a few thousand pounds had the ability to move the receiver from grief to joy.

Anna Smith's parents were not concerned with money. They were quite probably discussing the news of there being a new tenant due to move into Netherfield. He was Almain, and desired to rename the building… rename the building…

'Kai?' Anna called.

The lone servant of Arendelle was with her in seconds.

'Miss Smith?'

'What did you say that titillating young- uh- our new neighbour, I mean…'

Kai waited, years of being in Miss Smith's service enabling him to keep a straight face.

'...what did you say he wanted to name his house?'

'Layben-Roweener,' Anna parroted a moment later, accurate in her pronunciation, but mentally butchering the spelling. 'Layben-Roweener. What do you think it means?

Kai bowed his head. 'I'm afraid I do not speak the language, though I can make enquires if you wish.'

Anna shook her head. 'It's better as a surprise,' she said dreamily. 'That will be all, Kai.'

She crept into the hallway and stopped just short of the sitting room door.

'Did you hear, Mr. Smith, that there is to be a new resident in our little neighbourhood?'

'I did indeed, my dear. In fact, I spoke with him just yesterday and he already seems to have taken a shine to our Anna.' Mr. Smith paused. 'I told him on no uncertain terms that he was not allowed to court her, of course.'

Both Mrs. Smith and Anna let out cries of horror, Anna's hastily muffled by her hand.

'You did what?!'

Mr. Smith laughed.

'Why, we must also dissuade Anna from warming to him too.'

'Sir, whatever for?'

'Do you not remember your own youth, Mrs. Smith?'

Mrs. Smith remarked drily that it had been a rather long time ago.

'The more you tell the young not to do something, the more they will do it!'

Anna could picture the gleam in her father's eye.

 _Such a match-maker… this is where I get my romantic tendencies!_

'I happen to think he's a fine fellow, in all truth,' Mr. Smith continued.

'He certainly has rather fine legs,' murmured Mrs. Smith-

Well, it was in fact Anna who had that particular thought about the new resident of 'Layben-Roweener'…

Her thoughts had drifted.

The sitting room fell silent.

Anna liked to think that her parents _were_ having that conversation…

In Heaven.

She sighed. Sniffed a little, perhaps, and wiped her eyes, but nothing extravagant.

It had been three months, after all.

Kai rang the bell for lunch. It was already midday.

 _Midday!_

 _Hadn't Kai said that the handsome foreigner was going to move in today?_

Anna ran to the window.

* * *

She had never seen such a derrière.

'Never before have I desired to place my mouth on such an area,' Anna quoted, as she watched the man unload his belongings from the carriage.

It had been emotional, sorting through her parents' possessions.

Her father's watch, her mother's jewellry, her father's paintings, her mother's books…

They'd had a small library, of course.

Anna suspected, however, that had her mother had the opportunity to dash back home before drowning at sea, she would have let _that_ small collection drown with her.

How Anna had reacted when she first turned the page!

 _And how I reacted once I kept reading…_

She'd never known a story book to be so… informative. Whoever knew, that between a woman's legs there was-

The book was very European, both in style, and ideas.

 _To be crass, I went from Sundays at Church, to Sundays busy alone in bed…_

 _Mother and Father wouldn't have wanted me to spend my days weeping-_

 _Though this was unlikely to be what they'd had in mind._

To be fair to Anna, it must be told that Sunday was the only day that she had the house to herself, Kai and the Cook and the maid all attending Church.

Besides, with her parents gone, Anna's interest in God had waned slightly.

Her neighbour went back out to the carriage and had his arms filled with more bags and boxes.

 _How much he owns! How rich he must be!_

 _And he carries it in himself, rather than asking the servants, how unusual…_

 _How European…_

Anna swooned.

 _Such hair!_

 _Such sideburns!_

 _Such a jawline!_

On his way back up the path, the man dropped a small box, and bent down to pick it up.

Anna drooled.

 _I'm going to Hell._

 _If it even exists._

 _...I'm a heretic. The Devil has saved a seat for me, that's almost certain-_

'Miss, your soup is getting cold,' Kai murmured next to her.

Anna attempted to manipulate her features into something less lustful.

'Thank you, Kai,' she said, reluctantly following him into the dining room.

'His name is Bösewicht-Kerl,' Kai informed her, producing a slip of paper. 'I thought you would appreciate seeing it written down, with the correct spelling etc.'

She read Kai's elegant hand. "Hans Bösewicht-Kerl… Anna Bösewicht-Kerl…'

Kai politely pretended not to hear.

* * *

Anna had not become _rich_ as a result of the will.

As a result of Primogeniture laws, most of the Smith's wealth had gone to Anna's much older cousin, a man Kai said lived far away (he seemed to be not sorry about this fact), and who had the unfortunate name of Weaselton.

When Anna turned 21, Mr. Weaselton was permitted to entrust Anna with as much money as he wished to grant her. Again, it was not an obscene amount, but it was enough to let her be choosy about her future husband.

The amount Anna had so far inherited largely allowed her the distinction between 'hoping her One True Love was either also poor, or sufficiently blinded by her good looks' and 'knowing her One True Love would overlook her small fortune, because she was The One'.

'It's enough to entice potential suitors, Joan!' she cried.

Joan smiled. 'My sweet sister,' she whispered, as Anna wrapped her in a warm hug. 'As if you were not enticing enough already!'

Their spirits were high.

The news of the will, finally confirmed after all these months, had brightened their lives.

'How nice of them to leave us both so much!' Anna murmured, draping herself across the sofa- _her_ sofa now.

'Mother knew I loved her earrings,' Joan sighed. Her eyes filled with tears. 'I'm not sure I can bring myself to wear them. So many memories…'

'Joan,' Anna said, firm but kind, 'we have wept and mourned. Today it is time for us to put on our brave faces, and start living our lives again. They wouldn't want us to be sad.'

Joan pulled herself together.

Anna wiped a stray tear of her own. Out of her and Joan, she was the strong one.

 _Think happy thoughts, Anna. Think about your new life now-_

Oh, what a life she was going to lead!

'Are you excited for the ball next week?' Joan asked. 'I heard our new neighbour is hosting.'

Kai had told Anna the details over lunch. Mr. Bösewicht-Kerl was not, as Anna had feared, bringing many ladies.

In fact, rumour had it he was bringing none at all.

'It's like the start of a romance novel,' Anna sighed, keeping it evasive. Joan was never to know what filth she read- it would corrupt her innocent soul.

'Always a hopeless romantic!' Joan teased.

'Aren't you hoping to meet a handsome young man?' Anna asked.

Joan blushed. It was confirmation enough.

'And then we can host a small gathering of our own here at Arendelle!' Anna exclaimed. It was half the size of Netherfield, but perfect for more intimate balls.

'Do you want to?' Joan asked, shocked. 'We haven't since… well, you know…'

'It's time to open up the gates again,' Anna declared. 'I can meet The One!'

'You'd be the luckiest girl in England, if the first man you met was your future husband!' Joan said wisely. 'You can't judge by looks and first impressions alone.'

 _Oh Joan, but you haven't seen Mr. Bösewicht-Kerl…_

'He'll sweep me off my feet, and we'll dance and talk all night long, and share chocolate and strawberries!' Anna sighed, twirling round the room with Mr. Bösewicht-Kerl.

 _I bet I'll have to strain my neck to look up at him…_

After a few minutes of passionate dancing, Anna flopped back down on the sofa again.

It was completely unladylike, but that was another benefit of having dead parents… even Kai barely told her off anymore.

She thought about her handsome new neighbour until the thoughts became a bit too much.

'I must retire early,' Anna informed Joan.

'Before dinner? Are you quite well, Anna?'

'I'm so excited I dare say I won't sleep a wink,' Anna said, 'but I crave some rest. It's been an intense time lately.'

Anna hated playing the orphan card, but she could hardly tell Joan that she planned on fishing out a certain book from between the cracks in her floorboards and… really letting go.

'Sweet dreams, Anna,' Joan whispered. 'We can discuss the ball in much more detail after dinner.'

'We have to plan what to wear!' Anna exclaimed. 'Father always said that green brought out my eyes…'

* * *

Later that night, thoroughly sated and a little… sticky… Anna had one final thought before sleep claimed her:

 _Mr. Bösewicht-Kerl and I can talk for hours, and then I won't be alone anymore..._


	2. For The First Time In Forever

Anna was calm.

Anna was prepared.

Anna was-

'...about to be late!'

Was that really the right shade of rouge?

Was her hair a little too curled?

Was the perfume a bit too much?

'Netherfield _is_ just across the street,' Kai commented, as Anna raced around looking for that jewelled hairpin her outfit would _not_ be complete without. 'As it is, you're already 10 minutes late… which is practically early.'

Anna had never been one to stick to social convention. She could attempt to, but each endeavour just led to her slipping off, like a buttered dog trying to climb out of a huge sink.

'I need to be late enough that I don't look eager, and cause Mr. Bösewicht-Kerl to wonder where I am, and therefore think of me,' Anna explained. 'But I mustn't be too late, in case all the other ladies take him!'

'I see,' Kai said, completely lost.

'Is this what you were looking for?' he said a couple of minutes later, fishing out a gleaming piece of metal from in-between three empty cups of tea. Dressing for a ball makes one thirsty.

Anna beamed. 'You've saved me, Kai!'

 _If I use it to pin back a small braid…_

 _There._

 _Now his attention will be captured by the gem, and then he'll look down and see my lovely long neck all waiting to be-_

Kai cleared his throat.

'I hate to rouse you from your daydreams, Miss, but I notice a carriage has just pulled up outside Netherfield.'

She saw the flash of a dress, and that was enough.

 _I'm going to be the woman he wants, not her!_

'Well, I must be off,' Anna announced.

Kai narrowly avoided a black eye as Anna thrust her parasol at him, bending over her pile of shoes. 'A lady always takes her parasol, even if she is only going a short distance,' Anna quoted.

'Mrs. Smith was very wise,' Kai agreed, gingerly taking the offending item. 'You look most excellent, Miss Smith, so graceful,' he said, ignoring the fact that Anna had nearly fallen over twice whilst lacing up her shoes.

'Thank you, Kai,' Anna grinned. 'Let's hope Mr. Bösew- I mean, let's hope the gentlemen do too!'

* * *

'Joan,' Anna gushed, 'I didn't know you had that dress! It looks incredible.'

'Thank you,' Joan said, leaning in closer. 'I bought it especially,' she admitted.

'Oh, did you?'

'Anna…' Joan said warningly.

'I have an excellent taste in men! I'll find you someone who is just your type, Joan,' Anna assured her.

'Your type appears to have disappeared,' Joan commented.

They'd arrived 20 minutes ago, and Anna hadn't seen even a glimpse of Mr. Bösewicht-Kerl's wonderful backsid-

'I find it most terribly rude,' Joan continued, and Anna squashed _those_ thoughts back down for when she was back in her room. 'If one is to host a ball, one must at least greet each new guest- but to not be present at all! How shocking!'

'He's European,' Anna defended. 'He doesn't know our customs.'

Joan raised an eyebrow, and took Anna's gloved hand in her own. 'Don't go conflating nationality and bad manners,' she advised. 'True bad manners are bad wherever you are. I highly doubt this would be acceptable in Almany.'

'I'm sure he'll appear soon,' Anna said, 'I can hardly judge him, sister. Remember when I was late to my own birthday?'

But Joan wasn't appeased.

'I don't want you to settle, Anna,' she begged.

Before Anna could reply, Joan had dragged her over to a small line of chairs down one side of the room.

'Sit here until a dashing young man asks you to dance,' Joan said. 'I heard that they will be starting soon, and you will need a partner.'

'Why can't _I_ ask a man to dance? Why must I sit and wait?' Anna demanded.

'You have your heart set on a very particular man, and if I leave you to your own devices, you will only dance with a bunch of lookalikes, and end up disappointed because they are not him. I say take a chance, because you never know who you might meet!'

'Fine,' Anna pouted, weak in the face of Joan's enthusiastic stubbornness. 'Where are you going?' she cried.

Joan just smiled. 'I'll be with you if you need me, Anna. Have fun!'

And with that, Joan was gone.

Anna slumped in her seat, not caring if people talked about her lack of manners.

 _As if I'd catch the eye of any man, let alone Mr. Bösewicht-Kerl. I should have declined the invitation-_

She sat up straight.

Across the room, a man with messy blonde hair was walking right towards her.

* * *

The man reached the centre of the floor, and then froze.

Anna watched him in a 'I'm-not-watching-you' manner.

He turned and walked back.

 _Well then._

Compared to Mr. Bösewicht-Kerl, the gentleman was a giant.

Mr. Bösewicht-Kerl looked very short and, dare Anna say, _fragile_ , when faced with Anna's new suitor.

 _I prefer my neighbour,_ Anna decided.

Where Mr. Bösewicht-Kerl cut a dashing figure and wore the smartest suits, the stranger wore…

Anna wasn't actually sure what it was that he was wearing. Some sort of very thick jacket, and-

 _Boots with fur!_

 _Why isn't the whole room looking at him, they are so adorable!_

She was so enraptured by this strange choice of footwear, that she didn't realise the man had approached again until she heard a woman's soothing whispers right beside her.

'Just approach her,' the woman crooned in his ear.

He stared at the floor, blushing.

'But what if-'

'She is not Miss Winters,' the woman said, voice harsher now. 'That creature was unnatural, sinful…'

The poison in her voice shocked Anna.

The woman looked up, as if realising she was in public, and Anna quickly diverted her gaze before she got caught.

'Miss Winters had… would never dare treat you… severe mental disturbances…'

Anna zoned out a little. She was not going to waste her time with a man who was clearly still in love with someone else.

 _I want to be a lover, not a man's own personal advice column!_

'And how she treated you,' the man was saying now, his hand on her shoulder. 'How could she treat my own _sister_ in such a way…'

'I will never get over it!' the woman exclaimed. 'What unspeakable...'

Anna was now thoroughly enjoying the foreign accents, and the gossip.

 _Whatever had this Miss Winters done?_

'Go and ask her to dance,' the woman urged. 'They are about to start.'

She walked off, leaving the heartbroken man alone.

Anna sized her up as she walked past.

 _She looks… mean._

Anna had never met anyone who looked mean before. She made a mental note to stay out of her way.

Subconsciously, Anna turned back round to look at the gentleman.

Their eyes met.

Both widened in surprise.

Anna smiled, trying to be friendly.

The man frowned.

And then he spoke so quietly, that it was only by virtue of years of eavesdropping that Anna could hear:

'No… she is not so handsome close up. Hmm. There is no one in this room worthy of dancing with. No one who can live up to her…'

There was an undercurrent of fear and sadness in his talk. Anna knew he didn't really mean it.

But that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

* * *

'How dare he!' Hans exclaimed, as they began the two third. 'Whoever would pass up such a gorgeous creature as yourself?'

Anna blushed.

She was in love. With Hans. Hans and his dreamy voice...

He'd told her to call him Hans.

So European!

Joan would see it as a gross over-familiarity, but Joan knew _nothing_.

'Don't you think so, Anna?' Hans urged, his face serious and beautiful. 'How rude!'

'He had a nasty experience with a former lover,' Anna explained. 'I forgive it.'

Anna was so happy, she'd overlook anything!

She'd sat on her chair for a few more minutes after the man had insulted her, spirits low.

And then Hans had appeared, dressed in such finery, and offered to dance, and had danced with her and her alone this whole night!

Hans looked pained. 'Anna,' he exclaimed, 'you do not know his true nature!'

'His true nature?'

'Yes. I-I know Mr. Bjorgman, and he has not a thing to recommend him!' Hans rushed out.

He put his hand around Anna's waist and turned her slightly to the left. 'He's over there,' Hans said, pointing at the far corner of the room. 'Look at him, and tell me there is any admirable aspect of him!'

Mr. Bjorgman stood deep in conversation with a darker skinned man, whose contribution seemed largely to consist of nodding.

Hans took her silence as confirmation.

'Quite right!' he cried, at the same time as Anna cried, 'Oh, but his boots!'

Hans blinked.

'I beg your pardon?'

'Have you ever seen anything quite like them?'

'Anna,' Hans said slowly, as if she were very stupid indeed, 'Kristoff Bjorgman is incredibly arrogant and proud, and so is his sister, Karoline. In fact, I declare it a very good thing that he turned his nose up at you. We may never have met otherwise.'

Hans' expression took on a shy, embarrassed quality that made Anna melt.

'I'm very glad we did meet!' Anna said. 'Though I dare say it would have happened sooner or later, considering we live so close.'

'It's like fate,' Hans said softly. Then he frowned, and waved at some unknown guest. 'So sorry- an old friend- I will be right back-'

Anna found her gaze drifting right back to Mr. Bjorgman. He seemed more hesitant than proud to Anna, but Hans was the veteran of many balls, and clearly knew the man better than she did.

Anna glanced at Mr. Bjorgman's friend.

 _Quiet and thoughtful, just like Joan. I must set them up..._

'Anna?'

'Hi, Joan, how's it goi-'

'Did Mr. Bösewicht-Kerl really leave you partnerless in the middle of a dance?'

Anna had no time for Joan's negativity.

'Talk later, sister,' Anna said, and Joan was gone. Joan would change her tune once she realised how wonderful Hans really was.

'Missed me?'

Anna looked up into Hans' adoring face.

'Not as much as you missed me,' she breathed, winking.

* * *

By the time Anna sat down with her plate of chocolate-covered strawberries ('are you sure there is fruit under all of that?' Hans teased), the entire hall seemed to be whispering about Mr. Bjorgman being arrogant and proud.

'I'm a bit of a gossip,' Hans admitted, 'but I didn't want this town to be deceived.'

Because Anna was also a bit of a gossip (well, to Joan), and because Hans had so openly acknowledged his flaws, Anna only loved him more.

'How do you know Mr. Bjorgman?' Anna asked.

'We met in Norway,' Hans began, 'and I was-'

'Where's Norway?' she interrupted. Anna loved hearing about new places.

Hans paused. 'It's far far away, and very very cold,' he said.

'That's why he has such warm boots,' Anna sighed. 'I wonder where I can get a pair like that.'

Hans looked slightly irritated, but she must have imagined it, because a second later he was as charming as ever.

'Don't you see, Anna?' he said, pushing his hair off his face in a gesture that made Anna breathless. 'He can't even bring himself to dress in the English fashion! I myself aspire to dress and act so that I can live amongst you undetected.'

Anna rather liked the Norwegian fashion. She was sure the German fashion was even better.

 _Imagine Hans in lederhosen… just lederhosen...mmm…_

'Are you okay?'

Anna snapped back to the present, back to a Hans who was, sadly, fully clothed.

'Sorry, just daydreaming,' Anna said, blushing.

Hans smiled. 'Let me tell you a story,' he said.

Hans told Anna all about his time working in Norway, where he'd met Kristoff Bjorgman's father. They'd got along very well, and Hans had been treated like a second son, helping the Bjorgmans harvest ice. Hans had completely revolutionised the way the ice harvesters sold their ice to the kingdom, encouraging them to haggle and demand more money, and soon Mr. Bjorgman was very rich.

But when he died, his son left Hans nothing, even though it was written in the will that the two men should receive an equal share of the wealth.

Anna commiserated, disgusted by his treatment.

'I can't receive my full fortune until I turn 21,' Anna sighed.

Hans looked very interested by this, but he asked no questions.

* * *

They talked all evening, leaving the dancing to other people.

Anna told him secrets she'd never even told Joan, from the time she stole sweets from the Cook and blamed it successfully on her father, to the day she got chocolate in her lap whilst talking to a fine young man at a ball and didn't move her hands from her knees for 3 hours, lest the truth be discovered.

She'd got a little bit of chocolate on her dress today, too, but Hans hadn't mentioned it.

He laughed at her stories, and told many of his own that had Anna wiping away tears of mirth.

He also told Anna all about his wicked, selfish older brothers, about the woman who only loved him for his wealth, about his secret desire to become royalty.

Anna lost track of time.

Who knew conversation could flow so naturally, that you could finish the sentences of someone you had only just met with such ease?

'You have chocolate on your face, you know,' Hans smirked, as the first few guests began to leave.

She never wanted this night to end.

Anna licked around her mouth in an exaggerated movement. 'How about now?'

'Still there,' Hans said, chuckling. 'It's up a bit, to the left. Here.'

He licked his thumb, and swiped it down her cheek. He let it rest there for a moment.

'Thanks,' Anna whispered, lost in his eyes.

'I know this is quite sudden.' Hans said, his other hand rubbing the back of his neck, 'but would you like to visit again tomorrow? Just me and you. I have to know you better!'

'Of course!' Anna exclaimed.

For the first time in forever, she felt alive.


	3. Took It All Away

**Author's Note: Elsa will turn up, I promise. She has already been introduced, though…**

When Anna stepped out of Arendelle the next day, Hans was outside Netherfield, fixing the new house sign onto the side of the building.

She took a minute to admire his figure.

 _He even does the house work… this man is not afraid to get his hands dirty! So attractive..._

In fact, Hans was working so hard that he didn't appear to have heard Kai close the door.

Anna had not yet been spotted.

A fantastic idea occurred to her.

 _I'm going to run round to his side and surprise him!_

Anna was not afraid to work hard, either. Though their houses were but a short distance apart, she ran like she had never ran before (well, she _had_ never run before…)

At the last second, legs pumping and arms swinging, Anna had the craziest desire to ruffle Hans' hair-

THWACK.

Watching from the window, Kai debated _burning_ that parasol.

'Are you okay?' Anna cried.

'You just scared me a little,' Hans laughed, rubbing the back of his head. 'That's quite a weapon you have there!'

'I just raised my arm without thinking, I forgot I was holding it,' Anna moaned, 'I'm sorry. I just wanted to surprise you!'

'Well, you certainly achieved that. Are you ready for a tour of my humble abode?'

Anna grinned. 'I am indeed. Can we start with your new sign?'

They both looked at it, Hans in admiration, Anna in wonder.

'What does "Das Leben" mean?' she asked.

'The Life,' Hans whispered, and they smiled at each other.

Anna swooned.

 _He named his house "The Life", that's so romantic… wait…_

Anna giggled. 'The second part looks like it says "Ruin", or "Ruiner", or something.'

Hans laughed. 'You speak Almain?'

'I'm willing to learn, if you'll teach me.'

* * *

Hans showed Anna round all the rooms in the house. They took a walk in the grounds, read in comfortable silence in the library, challenged each other to a very tense game of Lottery Tickets (Hans couldn't hide being a sore loser). All in all, Anna couldn't ask for anything else.

And then her stomach growled.

'Somebody hungry?' Hans teased. 'I'll make us some lunch.'

'You don't have a Cook?' Anna blurted out. 'But you're rich!'

'Have you seen anyone in this house except me?' Hans pointed out. 'Servants gossip. I prefer to do it all myself. Cooks are incompetent, anyway, they never listen to your demands.'

Anna blinked.

She thought Hans enjoyed gossip.

He had clearly had a bad experience with cooks. Her own was practically an old friend by this point.

'It'll be ready in an hour,' Hans said, rising from his seat. He picked a stray card up from the floor. 'Hopefully I will be more successful in cooking, than playing games against you,' he joked.

Thankfully, he had disappeared before Anna had time to say 'I've had a lot of practice playing games against myself, that's what happens when you're orphaned!'

It would have really killed the mood.

Even though she wasn't sure what the mood _was_.

Though he was his usual, cheery, good-natured self, there was something restless about Hans today.

Kai had told Anna over breakfast that he believed Hans had an ulterior motive.

It was not the done thing in respectable society to invite a young woman over alone with no other guests.

Anna was kind of done with respectable society.

'He can't want me for my money,' she'd pointed out. 'It's hardly enough for me alone!'

 _Maybe Hans wants to marry me_ , she thought to herself, _and that's why he's acting slightly odd. We can live happy ever after…_

What man proposes so fast? Not one that could be trusted!

Anna groaned.

Her inner conscience sounded like Joan.

It was deeply unlikely that he would propose today, anyway.

* * *

But he did.

Anna froze, soup spoon lifted to her mouth, as Hans got down on one knee beside her.

'Anna,' he breathed.

Anna was torn.

Half of her was squealing with joy.

The other half was worrying about the soup getting cold. She was so hungry-

'Will you marry me?'

Food was forgotten.

'Of course I will,' Anna said, welling up. 'I love you!'

'I love you, too,' Hans said, slipping the ring onto her finger.

* * *

Thankfully, as day turned into night, sun turned into rain, and then storm, and Anna didn't need to make up a reason to stay over at Hans' house.

In Almany, Hans said, they were a little bit unconventional, compared to somewhere like Great Britain.

For instance, he said, couples often slept together before they were formally married.

The Church may view it as a sin, but if two people loved each other, and no one knew about it, where was the harm?

Anna agreed completely.

She liked this kind of 'unconventional'.

* * *

It didn't hurt, but Anna thought that was down to her being really, really up for it, rather than any particular effort on Hans' part.

Her mother had warned her not to expect much from her first time.

She'd also said that it would solidify the union between husband and wife…

Panting above her, Hans was acting like Anna wasn't even there.

Wasn't "lying on your back whilst he just goes at it" the very definition of convention?

Anna was bored.

If Hans hadn't recoiled in horror after he'd put a hand on her inner thigh and realised it was wet, she would have no issue reaching a hand between her legs (in between thrusts) and sorting things out for herself.

Hans stiffened, and then gasped.

Anna felt hot liquid inside her.

Hans collapsed onto the pillow beside her, and fell asleep.

Anna sighed.

 _Think positive. We've got a whole lifetime together. I'm sure he'll spice up a little once I show him my books…_

 _Oh, I know which one I'd show him first…_

She'd just… finished… when Hans woke up.

'Hi,' Anna said, quickly wiping her hand on the pillow.

'Hi,' Hans smiled. 'How big is your fortune, exactly?'

It seemed a bit of an odd topic for post-coital discussion, but what did Anna know.

Anna told him the amount.

'And… how much do you get when you turn 21?'

He looked a little nervous.

'That's the full amount I'm entitled to, if my cousin is very kind!' Anna said. 'I don't expect to get that much, to be honest.'

'...I see.'

Hans turned away from Anna to reach for a glass of water.

He sounded… horrified.

Anna couldn't see his face.

'Hans?' she whimpered, feeling suddenly vulnerable.

He faced her again, and Hans looked _relieved_.

'This makes me feel much more at ease,' he said, taking Anna's hand in his own. 'You see, I don't have that much money, either. I never thought you'd take more than a passing interest in me, poor as I am.'

Anna laughed. 'So modest! You must be rich to afford such a place as this!'

Hans winced.

'I owe a lot of money,' he admitted.

Anna stared at him.

'I have many debts to pay back- and I will pay them back- you see, Anna…'

She waited.

'At first I thought you were perfect, because you were pretty and funny and so rich, and you could pay off my debts for me. Now, however, I see that you do not have much money, but that is even better, because we can work together to pay it off! You must have some jewellery of your mother's to sell?'

'We can work together?' she repeated, uncertain.

'Yes! I'm sure you're a dab hand at all those womanly pursuits- you can paint, for example, and we'll sell them under my name!'

Anna was speechless.

Hans cradled her in his arms.

'My darling,' he said, 'you're looking at this from the wrong angle. I wasn't looking to take advantage, or to use you. I just want the best life for our children, Anna, because you are the love of my life and our children must have only the finest!'

'Our children,' she repeated, heart lifting. 'Our children!'

'Our children,' Hans said, and then he fell asleep again.

Anna laid her head down on his chest, smiling, Everything was going to be perfect.

* * *

Anna awoke at the sound of a front door being slammed shut.

She heard a horse whinny.

 _Who calls a carriage at this hour?_

Sleepily, she rubbed her ring finger with her left han-

The wedding ring was gone.

Anna sat up.

The bed was empty.

Her life was ruined.


	4. Catalyst

**Author's Note: hi everyone! I'm blown away by all the attention this has received in such a short amount of time. Thank you all for your support! Just a heads up, there's a verrrrrry long reply to the fantastic The Chronicle at the end of this chapter (we're talking around 1,000 words). You're welcome to skip it, of course, but if you want to see me get nerdy about Pride and Prejudice and talk about how I am making it work with Frozen, or just want to see some in depth character analysis of the past few chapters, you're in for a treat!**

'Well, you've really gone and done it this time.'

Anna groaned into her pillow. 'I do not need this right now, especially coming from you!'

'I'm not saying "I told you so", but I'm not not saying it.'

'...Joaaaaaaaaan.'

'My dear sister, only you could agree to sleep with a man you'd only just met. If I didn't know you better, Anna, I'd think you had loose morals. No doubt that's what the rest of the town will think when this news spreads like fire.'

'I loved him,' Anna whispered. 'And then he just left me…'

Joan softened.

'He is a very wicked man,' she said, rubbing Anna's shoulder. 'Many people will talk about how you are now no longer a virgin, yet still unmarried, but he did us good when he fled. A lifetime stuck with him is no life at all.'

'I don't think it would have been a lifetime,' Anna said miserably. 'Even if Kai had forced him to marry me, he'd leave the second he thought he could tempt a richer woman.'

'All the better that he did run like a coward, then. Oh, cheer up a little, Anna. It's not all bad. You're finally free of the respectable society you hated so much!'

'I wanted to shun respectable society, not have it shun me.' Anna sat up, and looked at Joan. 'How can you be so flippant about this? What man will want me now! My life is over before it ever really began!'

'The right man will want you. I personally have an inkling about Mr. Bjorgman.'

Anna snorted, despite herself. 'Mr. Bjorgman and I would make quite a pair, I agree. Husband and wife both pining over other people!'

'You will have forgotten about Mr. Bösewicht-Kerl three months from now,' Joan told her. 'There are plenty more fish in the sea.'

Joan glanced up at the sound of hooves. 'Speaking of which… is that a handsome man pulling up outside right now?'

* * *

'No. No it is not,' Anna said, as they watched a man who looked to be around two-and-sixty step out of the carriage. From his big round glasses to his comical moustache to his protruding ears, he was many things, but handsome was not one of them.

Joan was silent.

'Who is he?' Anna asked.

'I regret to inform you, Miss Smith, that he is your second cousin, the clergyman Mr. Weaselton,' Kai murmured beside her. Anna never seemed to hear Kai approach.

'What's he doing here?'

'He wishes to discuss your inheritance. His letter arrived yesterday, whilst you were…'

Anna had run back and told Kai everything that had happened between her and Hans, and Kai had responded perfectly. No words, just a big, warm, respectable-society-be-damned hug, and he held her until the tears stopped, because no one else could.

'...Whilst I was out,' Anna finished, heat rising to her cheeks. 'Did he not ask if he could visit first?'

'Yes. But it appears he simply _could not_ wait.' Kai sighed. 'I'm sure he's a charming gentleman...' They watched Anna's cousin wave his walking stick at a servant for offering to lift his belongings out of the carriage. 'Or perhaps not.'

* * *

'Hello, Mr. Weaselton,' Anna said, in her politest manner.

The man paused, coat half off his body, and raised an eyebrow at her. His features contorted into something that could be described as a smile, if the individual giving the description was an optimist with poor eyesight.

'...Sir?'

Mr. Weaselton twitched.

'It's Weselton,' he snapped. 'Why can no one say my name correctly!'

He tore off his coat and threw it at the maid, who yelped and ran to hang it up.

Behind her cousin, Kai's shoulders were shaking, and Anna just knew it was with laughter.

 _Thanks a lot, Kai._

'Mr. Weselton,' Anna said, even throwing in a curtsy for good measure, 'my deepest apologies. It is so good to finally meet you!'

Mr. Weselton was mollified. He gave Anna a small bow. 'A shame that it has not occurred due to better circumstances, my dear. Had your parents invited me, I could have seen your beautiful face many times before.'

 _Ew._

 _So now that Mother and Father are gone, you believe you can just waltz in here without permission?_

 _Conceal the resentment, conceal the resentment…_

'Shall we sit down?' Anna asked through gritted teeth. 'Kai can make us some tea.'

* * *

It became apparent that the inheritance talk was going to come later. What Mr. Weselton seemingly wanted to discuss was how much Anna _really_ needed to tie the knot.

 _Well, I thought I was happily engaged yesterday…_

He got right to the point, in a long-winded, rambling way. There was no exchange of niceties, and Anna had barely got a word in before he'd launched into a long speech about his parish and how marriage brought one closer to God, because in matrimony there were actually three, not two…

Anna had read a couple of stories in which two women and a man (or two men and a woman, but that was rarer) all loved and slept together as three, but it didn't seem appropriate to bring that up, so she just nodded in the right places.

'You are fond of Church weddings, I take it?' he asked.

'I'm not really religious anymore,' Anna admitted.

Mr. Weselton nearly dropped the teacup in his lap. 'Whatever for? Such blasphemy!'

She looked him straight in the eye. 'My parents are dead, Mr. Weselton.'

Mr. Weselton nodded, stroking his mustache. 'Yes, I see. It is very common- I dare say normal- for faith to waver after such loss. I see it all the time in my parish. But God will find you again, Miss Smith, do not be afraid.'

Anna was silent.

Not that that phased her cousin, for he just continued to list the many benefits of marriage...

Anna felt her eyes droop.

How much time had passed before Kai came over and collected her empty teacup, Anna did not know. She only knew that there was a strong chance she had died yesterday, and was now in purgatory.

Kai gave Anna a Look. It said:

 _I have hidden the parasol where you will never find it, because though I completely understand your urge to bash his brains out and just take your rightful inheritance without the fanfare, you will lose all your money in prison, and it will not be worth it._

 _Additionally, following your incarceration, Mr. Weaselton may very well move into Arendelle, and it wouldn't surprise me if he came across your book collection and either set them aflame, or himself became aflame. Yes, I know you read those. I would tell you not to be embarrassed about it, but they are an abomination. Afterwards, once we pretend this eye conversation never happened, you may find a few more… well written ones under the crack in the floorboards. It's not the content I disapprove of, but the execution. Write well, or don't write at all!_

 _How do I know about them? You left the floorboard ajar one evening and the maid nearly twisted an ankle, so don't blame her. Also, the Cook also knows. We all find this hilarious._

'Stop staring at Miss Smith like a gormless idiot!' Mr. Weaselton- sorry, Weselton- roared. 'I could have you fired for such incompetence!'

'Don't talk to Kai like that! He's my friend!'

Mr Weselton stared at her.

Kai slunk off, smiling.

Mr Weselton kept staring.

 _Why does everyone keep looking at me like I'm an idiot?_

'You cannot possibly go through life believing everyone is your friend,' Mr, Weselton declared. 'That is a foolish, naive position. There will always be ungodly men and women acting for evil, and to be ignorant of this is to invite pain and hurt.' He paused. 'I suppose this lesson has come too late to be of use. No sooner had I set foot in this town than I heard the most dreadful stories about you.'

 _Kai_ is _my friend_ , Anna thought bitterly, but she couldn't deny the wisdom in her cousin's words.

'What if someone appears to offer the hand of friendship?' Anna asked, 'what if they deceive you? How can one see through such a disguise?'

Mr. Weselton did not reply straight away.

Then he said carefully, 'The snakes are forever offering many delicious apples, Miss Smith. Whether it be what you desire, or what you do not even know you want, they will offer it to lure you in.' He fixed his beady eyes on her. 'Someone who is pure of heart will not offer such things, because friendship and love are not business transactions.'

'But if my friend was sad, or- or even a lady I did not know whom I saw in town- I would offer comfort and support. Does that make me a snake?'

'No, because you expect nothing in return, beyond a word of thanks, and perhaps that they do the same to you if you find yourself in the same situation. For better or for worse, you are selfless.

'Many snakes will play the long game, Miss Smith, only revealing their true selves and hidden goals when they have coiled themselves tight around your body, or because they realise you are not the prey they desire, and have no reason to keep up the act. That is why first impressions are so dangerous. You often can only tell a good soul from a snake after you really get to know the person.'

Anna thought of Hans, and sighed.

'Let us move on to cheerier topics,' Mr. Weselton said, putting down his cup of tea. 'Largely, my proposal.'

He said it so casually that Anna didn't react at first.

By the time she did, Mr. Weselton was in full-on speech mode again, and she feared it was too late to stop him.

* * *

'...I decided in that split second of waiting for your servant to open the door, that I must do this out of respect for your parents. You are a fallen woman, Miss Smith, but I offer you a life-line: in return for your hand in marriage, I will give you your full inheritance the day we become one in the eyes of the Lord.'

Anna was frozen.

'How do I know you're not a snake?'

He laughed. 'I'm family, of course. Now, do you accept the terms of the agreement?'

'You just said that love wasn't a business transaction!' she cried.

'Foolish girl,' Mr. Weselton spat, 'Only the fortunate can afford to marry for love! Your luck ran dry when you gave yourself up to a man you had not even know a week, let alone married. You cannot afford to decline my offer!'

'I cannot marry you!' Anna said. 'I will be miserable if I do not marry for love.'

Her cousin sat up straighter. 'Listen very carefully. Your parents would have been shocked and appalled at your conduct, and would no doubt have thrown you out onto the street-'

'They would have done no such thing,' Anna hissed, but her chest was tight with shame and guilt.

'I am giving you the opportunity to save the family name from disgrace. Manners aside, I find you an enticing young woman, and I feel that once you become more mature, you will be a pleasure to be with. Surely you can see that this is your best option?'

Anna stared at him, trembling.

A life with Mr. Weselton?

She would rather starve.

'I must reject your proposal, kind Sir,' she said stiffly. 'I hope you are not too offended by this.'

His eyes flashed.

'Perhaps I have not made myself clear. Either you marry me, and get your inheritance, or you get nothing at all!'

'I will return in six months,' he said, after Anna made no reply. 'Women often say "no" when they mean "yes".'

The door slammed shut.

Anna buried her head in her hands.

She felt a hand on her shoulder.

'Your parents had nothing but unconditional love for you, Anna,' Kai said. 'Do not listen to that weasel.'

Anna sniffed.

'I made some enquiries whilst you were sleeping this morning. Take this. We can discuss it at lunch, if you wish, or at dinner, if you feel you need more time.'

Anna lifted her head up, and stared at the leaflet.

'Smiling Oaken's Finest Hotel And Gardens,' she read.

'All of this will blow over in 6 months or so. I think it might do you good to get away from this place.'

6 months… a chance to clear her head, and decide how she was going to survive without her full inheritance.

'Okay.'

'You could make a friend,' Kai said, so earnest it made Anna's heart ache. 'When was the last time you had a friend?'

'You're my friend, Kai,' she said weakly.

'You need a friend your own age… it would bring the smile back to your face, I am sure. Oaken's is a very small hotel, so there will be two other guests there at most. Who knows who you might meet?'

 **Author's Note:** **Hi, The Chronicle! I hope this is going to clear a few things up for you. I'll work through your concerns in a** _ **kind of**_ **linear order- some elements make more sense if I address them later on.**

 **Firstly, in this fic Anna and Elsa are not sisters. That's not down to any disgust or prejudice on my part, as I have enjoyed many stories where the two are related, but it's how this story came to me. Were they sisters, the series of events would be completely different to how I have planned.**

 **I wouldn't class this fic as an 'adaption' as such, or a 'retelling'. To Austen purists, I suppose what I am doing is best described as 'butchering' Pride and Prejudice. I'll go into more depth about which Austen character inspired which Frozen character throughout this reply, but I just want to make it clear that this is** _ **not**_ **going to follow the classic narrative in any full, linear sense. There will be elements you may recognise, like Anna's parents discussing Hans in the first chapter as Mr. and Mrs. Bennet do with Mr. Bingley, and Mr. Weselton proposing to Anna as Mr. Collins does to Lizzy, but that is as far as it will go. Hopefully this makes you more curious and excited then disappointed!**

 **Secondly, my choice of Pride and Prejudice over other of Jane Austen's works comes largely down to confidence. I have not read Sense and Sensibility, so I cannot say much about your comment, only that it sounds like a very interesting novel. I have read Emma, however, and I absolutely adored it. So much so that I would be loathe to change any aspect of it, and I fear that that would result in a very poor imitation. I am nowhere near the skill level of Jane Austen, so twisting Pride and Prejudice hopefully gives me a chance to shine in my own way. I studied Pride and Prejudice in English Literature, and so am quite confident that I know the characters and plot enough to twist the rules of its universe. If this fic really takes off, who knows, I might attempt to do the same for another Austen novel, but let's see.**

 **As for the pacing, I am partly torn as well. I will, however, say two things: the pacing slows down a looooot in the next few chapters, so much so that you might be complaining about it being too slow ;) additionally, Hans Being A Dick™ is the inciting incident that causes us to learn more about Kristoff, and meet Elsa. I could have kind of info-dumped it in, but I reckon it's worth the wait. We're working from Anna's limited perspective, and as such are at her mercy as to when we learn new information, and how in-depth that information is.**

 **Now, the extremely fast pace of these chapters is the result of my (internal) conflict between Frozen and Pride and Prejudice, or Hans VS Wickham.**

 **In Frozen, Hans mirrors Anna's impulsive, almost reckless behavior, in order to entice her. He proposes after they've only spoken for an evening. I believe that Hans, as his true self, plans things with great care. He isn't always so hasty and careless.**

 **You mention that Hans in this fic is already being villainous and '** **having his way with Anna and abandoning her.' I did this for two reasons. The abandonment is largely down to the elements of Wickham in his character- Wickham lost interest in Lizzy when he realised her small fortune. Hans has no reason to play Mr. Nice Guy anymore- he has to find some other richer woman to pay his debts for him. As Mr. Weselton wisely says, (how can a man be both so wise and so stupid?) a snake will only drop the act when the time comes to either make the kill, or abandon the prey.**

 **Secondly, the premarital sex may seem a bit shocking and unrealistic, but at the end of P &P Wickham elopes with Lydia and they sleep together. He must be forced to marry her. Hans has scarpered before he can be made to do the same, and a good thing too. How miserable Anna would have been!**

 **Now's a good time to discuss who Anna 'is', as such. I see a few parallels between her and Lizzy, namely that they are both kind and passionate. At this stage, however, I very much agree with you about Lydia. Now, no one really wants to** _ **be**_ **Lydia (sorry Lydia), so what you will slowly start to see (I hope) is Anna's progression from Lydia to Lizzy, as she grows and matures. Anna will not** _ **be**_ **Lizzy, though. You may see veins of Lizzy in her, like marble through a rock, but she is very much Anna at heart. I hope that isn't too confusing.**

 **My final comment on Hans is that, whilst we as readers know that Hans is a really terrible guy, unless Anna spreads the word far and wide other characters are at his deceptive mercy. What does that mean? Well, let's just say that abandoning Anna was not his only act of villainy...**

 **All I will say about the Joan thing is that it made me laugh, in a 'mwah-ha-ha my plan is working perfectly!' evil writer way. The questions you asked and the feelings you've shown are exactly the ones I wanted to provoke. By the way, you have a brilliant eye for detail, so trust your gut on Joan. All will be made clear.**

 **Just as Hans has stolen some elements from Mr. Bingley (okay, just Netherfield), so has Kristoff. The woman at the ball was indeed Kristoff's sister, and she is an allusion to Caroline Bingley. We both know what that means (i.e. big trouble). No wonder Anna doesn't like her...**

 **Elsa… Elsa is gonna annoy you for quite a while I think. Where Hans vomits up his life story if merely you look him in the eye, she is gonna take time, but that's all part of the fun. I like to think she's going to be woven in nicely, despite being one of the few characters not inspired by an Austen character.**

 **I hope that didn't come across as defensive, I was going for explanatory! Please feel free to ask any further questions you have, The Chronicle. Maybe we can even get a discussion going, though I feel your knowledge of Austen definitely trumps mine. Finally, your review really brightened my day, so thank you so much for being so in-depth!**


	5. Miss Winters? Are You In There?

**Author's Note: I've posted two chapters today, so please read the previous one if you haven't already!**

 **This one hopefully moves the story more firmly into the 'humour' tag.**

 **So, for those of you that were beginning to lose hope:**

 **We're finally going to get a glimpse of Elsa…**

Anna realised that she really really wasn't okay not when she spent the remainder of the day weeping, or when she refused to talk to Joan, or when she couldn't eat even one bite of the Cook's specially prepared "Your Life Is Kind Of Over But We'll Pretend This Is A Celebration" chocolate cake.

No, Anna realised things were very bad indeed when she arrived at Smiling Oaken's Finest Hotel And Gardens the next day- a whole hour _early_.

'A whole hour _early_?'

'Yes. We made good time.'

This was foreign territory, and not in the least because Anna had never been to Hampshire before.

'Do you wish to wait in the carriage?' Kai asked. 'We can play Lottery Tickets. You love Lottery Tickets.'

He had forced her to pack all the games her parents had owned, under the mistaken belief that she would spend the next 6 months merrily passing the time with her new best friends.

Anna shook her head. 'I'm sure the proprietor won't mind if I enquire early. The area looks deserted! I haven't seen another carriage in 10 miles!'

'Probably because this is a very secluded location,' Kai said, which was putting it lightly. The horse had struggled up a hill so large it was practically a mountain.

'If you do get welcomed inside, signal to me first, and I will bring your luggage in,' he continued, warily eyeing the many bags and boxes.

'Thank you, Kai.' Anna paused. 'I'll miss you, you know. Can we write to one another?'

He smiled. 'I fear that may increase your homesickness. Better to fully immerse yourself in your new place of residence, and your new friends.'

Anna sighed, and craned her neck out of the carriage to get a look at the hotel.

 _This is not what I expected._

It was a small wooden cabin, the sort where she imagined Mr. Bjorgman stayed when he was in Norway. What a strange kind of lodging for England!

A curtain twitched, and Anna thought she saw a pale face in the window.

She wasn't alone. The thought gave her some transient relief.

'You can do this,' Anna said to herself a moment later, confidence only slightly knocked as she brushed the grit off her hands.

 _I can't even get out of a carriage on my own... how will I survive without Kai?_

As Anna approached the front door of the hotel, she felt a great sense of loss. There was to be no white wedding, no opening up the gates of Arendelle, no One True Love or Happy Ever After.

There was only the Unknown, in the form of a building so tiny it was essentially a hut.

She took a deep breath.

Smiling Oaken's Finest Hotel And Gardens both looked and sounded welcoming, but Anna was terrified.

She knocked on the door.

Silence.

'...Hello?'

'...Hello, I'm Miss Anna Smith, uh, I'm a bit early, I can come back later?'

She pushed the door gently.

It opened.

She shrugged and walked inside.

Anna was probably breaching all the rules in the Respectable Society's Guide To Hotel Etiquette, but she was here because respectful society had turned its back on her, so it didn't bother her too much.

Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim candlelight. There was a welcome desk, unstaffed. On either side of the lobby was a door. The left door, given the geography of the building, likely lead to the rooms. From the right came the sound of laughter.

Anna gravitated towards the noise, like Hans to a naive, rich young lady. She needed some laughter in her life.

She knocked.

No answer.

Anna summoned just enough of Mr. Weselton's demeanour to exude self-possession, and yet avoid arrogance.

She opened the door, and... hovered, suddenly too shy to interrupt.

A large, friendly-looking gentleman (who Anna identified as Mr. Oaken, thanks to a name tag) was talking to a thinner blonde gentleman, and sharing some alcohol.

'The children are so excited to see our new guest,' the blonde man was saying, swinging his legs as he reclined in a chair. 'I told them many times that they must not pester her to play games with them, but they will not listen!'

Mr. Oaken laughed. 'Oh, for ones so little they have so much spirit! Do you think it would be rude of me to ask her if she would play just one game? They were so disappointed when Miss Winters declined.'

 _Miss Winters?_

 _That must have been who was at the window!_

What a small world this was!

'I would at least wait until tomorrow, once she has rested from the journey. Our last game of blind man's buff lasted over three hours!'

'They are so very ingenious.' Mr. Oaken swallowed the last dregs of his bottle. 'Now, I must go and man the desk, ya, in case Miss Smith is early.'

Anna was about to announce her presence when Mr. Oaken bent down and kissed the other man on the mouth.

Not wanting to disrupt such a private moment, Anna tried to slip away quietly, but her boot caught on the wooden floorboards, and she stumbled.

The men looked up in surprise.

Anna grinned, rubbing her neck. 'Hi!...uh, I'm your new guest.'

* * *

'I think that's everything,' Kai sighed to Mr. Oaken. 'Why must you bring two hat boxes, Anna, when you never go outside?'

'I will go outside here,' Anna retorted. 'There are gardens.'

'Ya, gardens,' Mr. Oaken said, not meeting either of their eyes. He'd been on edge ever seen he'd seen Anna.

 _Do I look like a troublesome guest or something?_

'Where _are_ the gardens?' Anna asked. It occurred to her that she hadn't seen any on the way to the hotel.

'They are the other side of the North Mountain.'

At Anna's blank expression, he explained: 'My hotel is in the north of Hampshire, ya, up big big hill- almost mountain! So I call it North Mountain. If you wish I will show you round the gardens after supper?'

'That would be lovely, thank you,' Anna said. 'I'm just going to see Kai off, and then I'll unpack.'

It was a teary farewell, and she needed a few minutes to compose herself before walking back inside. At the sound of her approach, Mr. Oaken stopped talking to his partner. Both looked at her warily.

'Is everything okay?' Anna asked. 'I believe we agreed I would pay upon leaving.'

'Ya, that is fine.'

And then: 'Did you say anything to your servant?'

'I'm sorry?'

'Anything about us?' Mr. Oaken said, wringing his hands. 'I am most sorry. It was not for a woman to see.'

The cogs began to turn in Anna's mind. 'That was my fault for not telling you of my arrival,' she said. 'It was a private tender moment between you, I thought nothing of it, except that it was most charming.'

Mr. Oaken and his partner exchanged a Look that said: _is she too good to be true?_

'You are aware it is illegal in England, though?' his partner said. 'A man was hanged just last month.'

Anna was generally... well, "self-absorbed" is too harsh a label…

Let's go for "ignorant".

 _That's why "And My Lover Was The Same As Me" ended with Harold being hanged,_ Anna thought, unaware that she was a) in possession of a banned book deemed so shocking it had been discussed in court and b) completely zoning out of the conversation. _I thought it was an extreme punishment for stealing a loaf of bread! Oh, I couldn't finish that night, it was so sad… poor Harold… I cried for hours..._

The two men exchanged another Look. This one said:

 _Oh great, one guest is a misanthrope, the other a recluse. What fun they will be!_

 _Well, Miss Winters has the worldly knowledge, and Miss Smith has the friendly demeanour, and the social skills- though she is kind of awkward..._

 _Yes, we must get Miss Smith to introduce herself to Miss Winters! They can learn from each other!_

Satisfied with their plan, they turned back to Anna, who now had a dreamy smile on her face, her thoughts having drifted to the... happier... of her books.

'Yoo-hoo!' Oaken said. 'Miss Smith? Yoo-hoo!'

'...Wha-?'

'Are you leaving many friends behind at home?' Mr. Oaken asked casually. 'You young people are so social!'

Mr. Oaken's partner gave him a Look that said _you're laying it on a bit thick_ , but it was ignored.

'Friends?' Anna laughed. 'Do imaginary count?'

Anna's hosts laughed too, great big belly laughs that slowly petered out into awkward giggles once they realised she was only half joking.

They exchanged a third and final Look, and it was of _despair_.

* * *

Anna knocked on the door, feeling that she had knocked on more doors in the space of one morning than in the last three months combined.

'Miss Winters? Are you in there?'

Silence.

She suppressed a groan.

Was it a Hampshire thing, not responding to a knock?

'I'm Miss Smith, the new guest- technically your new neighbour, I guess!'

Anna though she heard a rustle of fabric, but nothing all that motivating. She pressed on.

'Do you want to play "Build A Snowman"? It's a game that Mr. Oaken's children made up, I don't really know how they play it, because I'm guessing they're not being literal, since there isn't any snow, but it could be fun if we all did it together!'

'...Do you want to play Lottery Tickets, just with me? We could get to know each other!'

'...Okay, well, goodby-'

The door opened a crack.

Anna had time to process a flash of almost white hair, wide blue eyes, and a sharp inhale, and then the door was slammed in her face.

 _Think positive. You can play "Build A Snowman" with the children, and then go for a walk around the gardens with Mr. Oaken, and then you can have lunch, and then you can read one of the books Kai bought you as a going away present (look, their relationship was already unusual, okay) before supper._

At the thought of Kai, Anna sighed.

 _How am I supposed to be friends with Miss Winters if she just shuts me out?_

 **Author's Note: I did say a glimpse!**

 ***ducks***

 **For anyone left unsatisfied by this, don't you worry, I'll begin alternating between our two heroine's points of view from the next chapter, so we get to see Elsa's perspective on this new arrangement next...**


	6. Conceal

**Author's Note: took a few drafts before I was happy with this one. Replies are at the end of the chapter!**

 _Conceal…_

* * *

 _Conceal…_

* * *

 _Conceal…_

* * *

 _Don't let yourself feel it… don't let yourself think it..._

* * *

 _Conceal…_

* * *

 _Conceal…_

* * *

Elsa opened her eyes.

Propping herself up on her elbows, she moved into a sitting position, head resting against the headboard, back straight. Even after all this time, perfect posture was instinctive.

The clock read 1:03 PM.

She spent 10 minutes watching the second hand go round, thinking of nothing at all.

It was bliss.

Her stomach rumbled.

 _Mr. Oaken will have been to the market by now, it's a Thursday…_

 _There will be fresh eggs, and fresh bread, and maybe a small chocolate cake..._

Breakfast had been forgotten in the wake of Miss Smith knocking on her door, and Elsa was famished.

Such a long session of Concealment hadn't been needed for months, but that was to be expected. There was a new guest, and Elsa's routine had been disrupted (she always broke her fast at 9 AM, the same time as when Miss Smith arrived, and all plans of sneaking into the kitchen whilst she was unpacking had been abandoned after her introduction), and it was naturally going to take more effort than usual to keep the thoughts at bay…

...particularly when the new guest- so handsome, so coeval, so _eligible_ \- didn't just stir up familiar, ancient thoughts, but begot thousands of _new_ ones.

Elsa breathed in and out, in and out, not to quell any panic, but to ensure that panic, for the rest of the day, remained a foreign concept. She'd extinguished the fear, and what followed was constant maintenance, because once the panic rose, it was liable to rise again.

She knew the Concealment had been successful when attempts to think of Miss Smith resulted in a fuzzy, soothing buzz inside her head. She couldn't recall what her face looked like, except that it had been beautiful.

Elsa smiled, swinging her legs off the bed.

 _I'm strong enough to risk seeing Miss Smith in the passageway, or the kitchen. I'm even strong enough to say 'hello'!_

Her gloved hand brushed the door knob, and a thought wriggled up from deep inside:

A _few hours ago, Miss Smith was on the other side of this door, and she knocked on it with her sweet, bare knuckle-_

Elsa caressed her own hand like it had been scorched, taking several deep breaths.

 _You can do this, Elsa. Conceal, don't feel._

The second she made contact with the door, her senses _burned_.

She gasped, running back to her bed. She cradled her broiling head in her hands.

The dam broke.

 _ **The smell of her perfume, soft and floral, I wanted to**_ **lick** _ **it-**_

 _ **Her voice, so light and happy, did I used to sound that way once? So carefree, so optimistic?**_

 _Conceal…_

 _ **And her looks, oh, never have I seen a woman so stunning!**_

 _Conceal… Conceal… Conceal…_

 _Oh no!… it's not working..._

 _ **High cheekbones I want to trace with my finger- no, with my tongue-**_

 _Conceal…_

 _ **So many adorable freckles, I would kiss each and every one and whisper "I love you" each and every time-**_

 _Conceal…_

 _ **She wore rouge, but I know that with the right words and the right touch I could bring out her natural blush-**_

 _Conceal…_

 _ **Such long lashes, such blue eyes, how I wish she would just stare at me and never stop-**_

 _Conceal, don't feel, you can't- don't let the thoughts go!_

 _ **A nice dress, too. The green really sets off her red in her hair-**_

 _ **I bet it had lacing at the back- Oh, how I'd like to undo it, and push those sleeves off her shoulders, and the skirt up-**_

Shaking, Elsa got to her feet, and walked over to her dressing table.

 _ **She's so innocent, but I could remedy that, I could teach her everything I gleaned from Father's medical encyclopedia-**_

 _ **I want her hand in mine, and her embrace, and her kiss, and her touch**_ **-**

She picked up the dressing table's matching stool with her right hand, placed the other in her mouth, and brought the stool crashing down on her foot.

She shrieked around her hand, and then sighed, and smiled.

Physically, she was in agony.

Mentally- for now, at least- she was _free_.

Trying not to limp, Elsa went to get lunch.

* * *

Sometimes, once the days' (or hours') Concealment had been completed, and the storm had passed, she wondered where her worries went.

She never felt as though they really went away.

Was she filling some internal storage chamber? If so, what happened when it filled to the brim? What if one day, she filled it too far up, and it burst? What then?

If she did indeed shove all her wicked observations, her desires, all the images that flashed across her skull like lightning without warning and made her _hurt_ \- if she did indeed shove them down deep inside her, Elsa reckoned they laid to rest over her heart, lulled to sleep by its struggling warmth.

If ever she lost complete control, she believed the force of it would kill her instantly.

The thought was comforting.

* * *

 _Conceal…_

* * *

 _Conceal…_

* * *

 _Conceal..._

* * *

Elsa opened her eyes, and the tears finally fell.

If history repeated itself, her father _would_ see that she was placed in a madhouse, professional opinion be damned.

If an influential, prominent member of Society declared his daughter insane, only a simpleton would dare dissent.

Once she entered the asylum, she would never leave.

Elsa didn't fear people's talk about her. People would always talk.

No, what brought her out in cold sweat, what kept her from the sweet embrace of sleep, or the sweet, welcoming, innocent embrace of Miss Smith, was the fact that _money_ talked.

Specifically, her father's.

If history repeated itself…

History could not be allowed to repeat itself.

Avoidance was the only solution.

Mr. Oaken's guests never stayed long. She'd overheard him saying that Miss Smith would be staying "for quite a while", but in Elsa's experience that usually translated to a few weeks, maximum.

All Elsa had to do was stay out of her way, and then Miss Smith would be gone by this day next month.

...Wouldn't she?

 **Author's Note: hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Elsa's perspective!**

 **Well, perhaps 'enjoyed' is a little strong…**

 **The Chronicle:**

 **I'm very happy to feedback on your feedback to my feedback of your feedback (feedback now ceases to look like a real word...)**

 **I suppose this chapter shows my view on perspective flips. Personally, I love them for the glimpse we get into both characters head's (especially with regards to Elsanna fanfiction), and the way things are planned out for this story makes it integral to the plot. Hopefully this chapter managed to not give too much away, without consequently being frustrating and unenjoyable (fingers crossed…)**

 **You are absolutely correct about the social backlash not being described, somehow it slipped my mind. After reading your comment I toyed with adding a paragraph into a previous chapter and making everyone go back and read it, but it would be far less annoying to work it into the next chapter.**

 **It's rare for me not to have my nose in a book, but I'm going to hold off from reading Sense and Sensibility until part 1 of this is fully uploaded, because I have it all planned out, and I have found when reading I am like a plagiarist sponge. S &S may very well provide great ideas for the second part, but I'll read it when I go on a 'break' from writing for a week or so after part 1 is uploaded, because there's less risk of my writing style/ tone/ individuality slipping if I do that. I'll let you know what I think!**

 **The therapist comment is actually pretty major (all will be revealed), so thank you for that! I mustn't get lazy about my research… I edited the chapter, so thanks for catching it.**

 **My knowledge of the history of homosexuality in the UK is more male-focused, due to those being the texts I studied (have you read Maurice by E. M. Forster? It's one of my favourite novels ever!), but I do know that female homosexuality was not judged as harshly, particularly in the legal sense. That said, since this story's conception I conceived of Elsa having a real piece of work for a father. As you just learnt in the chapter, he views it as a mental illness, and it has had a deep effect on her. More details of what Elsa means by 'repeating history' will slowly be revealed…**

 **Reading 'I'm glad you're returning to the "humour" aspect' just as I publish this particular chapter made me wince… for the record, the next chapter made me laugh out loud whilst I was writing it. Of course, that's no guarantee that anyone else will find it amusing…**

 **Veoviing:**

 **If you haven't already seen The Chronicle's comments on Joan, then I suggest you reread the past few chapters and see if anything "sticks out". If you're still a bit lost after that, The Chronicle puts it way better than I ever could. Here's a clue, though: who is Joan in the Frozen film?**

 **Keanan765 and Guest:**

 **Yep, we've got a nice slow burn going. Warm yourselves on the flames of this ship...**


	7. RAT-TAT-A-TAT-TAT

**Author's Note: a longer wait between updates this time, but a longer chapter. Quite a lot of research went into it, and I didn't want to publish until it was the best it could be. I must say that I'm rather proud of this one, if I do say so myself. Hopefully you all enjoy it! At the end there's a shedload (1,600 words give or take) of me going into depth about my research (including a glossary, for the archaic terminology), and also a ramble to The Chronicle about fics I was inspired by. Basically, I talk a lot, but I doubt that's come as a surprise.**

Anna peered at the kitchen clock, and then at the glass of water she had no memory of getting.

'Ah, good morning, Miss Smith!'

Mr. Oaken was far too cheery for this hour. It should be illegal to be that cheery before 9AM.

Her sleep-deprived mind noted he was buttoning up his coat.

'Good morning. Are you off to Church?'

Mr. Oaken laughed. 'No, no. Mr. Linden and I stopped many years back. We are taking the children to the park, ya, because everyone else will be enjoying the liturgy. It is a family tradition, because the park is so empty on a Sunday morning, so we do not get strange looks, and the children do not get asked where their mother is. When they ask that, they become most regretful for intervening. No one wishes to hear about smallpox.'

'I see.' Anna attempted to give him a smile she hoped didn't betray her sympathy, but it morphed into a yawn.

'I am most very sorry, Miss Smith, for I fear the children woke you. It is impossible to get them to use inside voices!'

She made a dismissive gesture. 'Don't worry about it. Kai always lamented that half the day had perished by the time I got out of bed!' She paused. 'Does Miss Winters go to Church?'

He shook his head. 'You may have already noticed, having been here just coming up to four days now,' he said, lacing up his shoes, 'but she leaves her room only to eat and drink, and she never leaves the hotel, unless you count going to answer the call of nature mere feet away. I suspect your arrival has unsettled her a little, because usually other guests pay her no heed- indeed, some go their whole stay without being aware of her presence.'

'She _never_ leaves the hotel? However does she keep from going mad?'

'Mr. Linden and I find it most upsetting, but we do not want to push her. She eats whatever we provide (alone, so we always cover her dish to try and keep it hot), and every Wednesday night she leaves a list outside her door detailing any supplies she may want from the market- she is an avid seamstress, you know, and I imagine that occupies a great deal of time. She makes all her own clothes.'

'How talented!' Anna exclaimed.

'Ya. It is a shame only Mr. Linden and I get to see the fruits of her labour- well, maybe you will too, if you can entice her out of her room.'

Mr. Linden's voice drifted in from the lobby. 'Mr. Oaken, are you ready to leave?'

'One minute, Mr. Linden,' he called, 'I am just saying goodbye to Miss Smith!'

'Goodbye, Miss Smith,' he said, winking. 'We will be back in an hour or so.'

'Goodbye. I hope you have a nice time!'

'Ya, thank you. I am sure we will.' Mr. Oaken paused. 'It is really not my place to say this, but I must say it. You are of course free to ignore me...'

'What is it that you want to say?'

'I must beg you to _please_ not give up on Miss Winters. I feel as though many people in her life have done so, and she needs someone who will be patient with her and not stop trying, even if all she does is shut them out at first. You are a very kind and positive person, Miss Smith, and I believe she would flourish under your wing.'

'I'll keep trying,' Anna promised. 'I truly want us to be friends.'

He smiled. 'I am most glad to hear that. Somehow I get the impression that you two would be right for each other.'

'Mr. Oaken, the children are getting boisterous!' Mr. Linden exclaimed.

Mr. Oaken chuckled. 'I think he means " _more_ boisterous". They are always boisterous! ...Well, I must be off. See you later!'

'Goodbye!' Anna called.

The front door slammed.

Silence.

She drank her glass of water, and debated going back to sleep.

* * *

 _What if she's still asleep?_

 _How will I even know whether she's asleep or just ignoring me?_

 **RAT-TAT-A-TAT-TAT**

'Miss Winters?' Anna whispered.

Silence.

Anna was not good with silences. Whenever there was silence, it made her most uncomfortable, and she couldn't stop herself from filling it.

The rambling began.

'Hi, I know it's really really early and you're probably still asleep- well, if you're asleep, you won't hear me saying this, so that's a stupid thing to say- oh, I hope I didn't wake you! Anyway, so you're probably really tired and not in the mood, but do you want to play Lottery Tickets? Mr. Oaken and Mr. Linden and the children are at the park, so we're alone in the hotel.'

She didn't know why she mentioned that last part.

Firstly, Miss Winters had been there longer than she had, so Anna was sure she was well aware of her hosts' weekly routine.

Secondly, Anna was a stranger, so why would the thought of being alone with her be in any way comforting?

Anna mentally gave herself a shake.

'...Miss Winters?'

Silence.

'Okay, bye!' she called through the door.

 _I'll try again next Sunday..._

* * *

Anna was _bored,_ and Mr. Oaken still wasn't back.

Walking in the gardens, reading, exploring her new town, buying a new dress, singing, dancing with Mr. Oaken as Mr. Linden played the piano, or vice versa, playing games with the children (anything but Lottery Tickets- her ego couldn't take the thrashing), practising her French in case the hotel got a dreamy foreign guest, they were all perfectly satisfactory activities…

But what she loved most of all was _talking_.

'This is all your fault, Joan,' Anna said aloud, staring at the ceiling as she lay splayed out on her bed. 'Saying you didn't want to hear from me unless I was dying or engaged is all very well if I was making new friends, but I am not! I can't talk to Mr. Oaken or Mr. Linden like I can you or Kai.' She sighed. 'I want to go home!'

 **Rat-tat-a-tat-tat**

Anna drew aside the curtain, and looked in disbelief at the smiling face at her window. 'Good Heavens! Joan, what are you doing here?'

'I am going to make sure you get a life, Anna.'

Anna's own smile fell. 'How dare you imply- I-I'll have you know that I have a life full of rich and fulfilling hobbies!'

Joan raised an eyebrow. 'Of course. That would explain why you were talking to yourself out loud.'

Anna spluttered. 'Did you really come all this way just to lecture-'

The front door opened, and she heard the happy cries of the children.

'Yoo-hoo! Miss Smith! We are back, and you have post!'

A minute later, Anna was sitting back on her bed, opening her letter. Immediately she recognised Kai's handwriting, and the homesickness roared to life.

'The sentimental old fool couldn't resist writing to you, and then he had the nerve to send me off to deliver it in person, in case it got delivered to the wrong place…'

Joan stopped, seeing how Anna was close to tears.

'Oh, Anna, it will be okay. You haven't really settled in yet. Give it a couple of months, and then you'll have to be pried away from here!'

'I hope so,' Anna sniffed. She scanned the letter for such phrases as "come home at once, gossip be damned, we all miss you" or "it turns out Mr. Bösewicht-Kerl has a relative with the same good looks, but who is not a pickthank", but there was nothing of the sort.

'It's not an urgent letter,' she announced. 'I will write to Kai and tell him that I will read one paragraph of his letter every Sunday, in order to have something to look forward to, and to make me feel less alone.'

'That sounds like a fine plan.'

'Joan…'

'You know what else sounds like a fine plan? If you take it upon yourself to ensure that, upon arriving back at Hertfordshire, you are an Accomplished Woman. Discover a passion, like Miss Winters has. In addition to alleviating your boredom, it will really draw in suitors.'

Anna snorted. 'My true love will not care whether I can knit a purse, or identify Robin Adair by the first piano note!'

Joan sighed. 'If I must appeal to your capitalist side-'

'You mean my desire for self-preservation-'

'Each week you spend here depletes your limited fortune. If you find something you are really quite good at, Anna, you could make a profit from it.'

Anna considered this.

It was a _brilliant_ idea.

She jumped up and down, up and down, up and down…

'I can show Mr. Weselton that I don't need his inheritance to survive! I'll show him!'

'Yes, that's the spirit... oh, do stop bouncing so, Anna, it makes me giddy…'

'Sorry,' Anna giggled, sitting back down again. 'You're the best sister ever!'

'I know,' Joan said, rolling her eyes, but she couldn't hide her smile. 'Now, there is no reason to delay any longer! Pick a new pastime to undertake!'

* * *

 _My dearest Anna, I know I said I wouldn't write, but your delightful cousin decided to grace us with his presence this morning, and what followed was an interaction so atrocious, that it is only by relating it to you that I can hope to make peace with it. It is not natural for a man to cringe for three hours straight, but alas, though he did not stay long, I am still not recovered._

* * *

Anna was on _fire_.

The characters were so thrilling and delightful and real, it was almost as though the novel was writing itself! The heroine so brave and witty, the hero so dashing and romantic!

The setting was a glorious bastardisation of her own home town, its name changed to protect the privacy of Anna's neighbours (and her own safety- lest anyone recognise, in justifiable mortification, an asinine comment they once made when she was in earshot, and attempt to sue).

She could see the glowing reviews already.

"In this sensational debut by Thomas Davidson [she thought the name had a nice ring to it], themes of naivety and heartbreak are built up to a breathtaking crescendo, as, through the perspective of plucky heroine Anna Jones, Davidson explores- dare we say _answers_ \- the age old question: is love at first sight _really_ possible?"

As the days flew by, a happy kind of exhaustion went from being temporary, to her temperament.

The story demanded she rise at odd hours of the night to furiously jot down plot points, and abandon her lunch half-eaten to capture new details about her antagonist, and even make the children pause a game of "Build A Snowman" as she seized a sheet of paper and spewed snatches of dialogue onto the page.

 _Once this gets published and becomes a swift best-seller, I'll have to field questions about where I got my inspiration from... but it doesn't feel like I found my inspiration at all- rather, it found me!_

 _Oh, I was born to do this!_

* * *

The first draft was finished by the following Friday, and she made herself wait an agonising two days before checking it through.

Criminally early on Sunday morning, Anna stared at the pages of straw she'd once seen as gold.

It was the result of hours of hard labour, agonising hand cramp, sweaty, sleepless nights, and countless cups of tea.

It was _atrocious_.

She did not know much about writing, but she knew first drafts were supposed to be bad.

Surely, however, they weren't supposed to be quite _this_ bad?

Her first draft made even the worst author Anna knew of, B. L. Kames, look like Frances Burney.

(And yes, Anna still read B. L. Kames, quality be damned, because she was the antithesis of a literary snob.)

Just thinking of the amount of work her manuscript was going to need before anyone else could _read_ it, let alone _enjoy_ it, made her want to weep.

Anna sighed.

There was a knock at her door, and then a whispered:

'Yoo-hoo! We are going to the park now, ya?'

'Good morning! How did you know I was awake?' Anna whispered back.

'You haven't slept in past 8 AM this whole week! Is your little novel finished?'

'Yes,' Anna said, before she considered the consequences of such a response-

Mr. Oaken's eyes fell upon the sheets of paper before she could finish cramming them into her dressing table drawer.

His face lit up.

 _Please don't say it, please don't say it…_

'Can I give it a little read? Mr. Linden, too, we are both most excited!'

Anna tried to think of a polite way to say 'I would rather lay face down in your gardens and have Mr. Weselton enter me from behind whilst Hans watched and chanted "I ONLY WANTED YOU FOR YOUR MONEY", than let you read this Hell-crafted piece of consumption-giving material.'

'...I don't think writing is my forte,' she said eventually.

'No? Ah, that is too bad.' He smiled at her. 'Do not give up hope. I myself used to run a badstue… a… how you say...a hot, steamy room for relaxing. It didn't really catch on over here. Mr. Linden was one of very few guests... well, that turned out well in the end, so I cannot complain. The point is, sometimes it takes a few tries to find something you are both skilled at, and that you enjoy. Do not lose heart, ya. I will see you later.'

Anna said goodbye to Mr. Oaken, took a deep breath, walked to the fireplace, lit it, and threw her work on the fire.

 _Ah, the symbolism of watching my dreams go up in flames…_

 _Oh, so_ now _you write pure poetry?_

 _Be quiet, brain._

Now what?

 _Thinking is always more fun when you have cake…_

* * *

 **RAT-TAT-A-TAT-TAT**

'Mish Winners? Duyuh wanna blay Loshery Tick-ckl-ckl-ckl-aaaaaaaack...'

Finally discovering wisdom behind the custom of not talking with your mouth full, Anna did a spectacular impression of a finch regurgitating food for its young.

Maybe acting was her true calling?

She wiped her mouth, breathing hard.

 _Have some semblance of manners, Anna..._

'It's okay! I'm not dying! I just choked on some cake! Uh, yeah, I have cake. Would you like some cake? We could eat cake and play Lottery Tickets? I promise I won't choke again!'

Silence.

'...Well, I guess that leaves more for me then!'

* * *

 _Firstly, though, I feel you may like to hear what we have been doing in your absence. One may think that the Cook, given respite from his normal duties, would quite simply slack off and give the maid and I the odd bit of bread and port for half a year when we invariably complained of hunger, but that has not been the case. On the contrary, freed from the restraints of that seemingly ever-growing list of foods you do not like (why oh why must it contain so many vegetables?), he is flourishing. Yesterday we were served a four course supper, containing such dishes as pea soup, leg of lamb served with French beans, and three varieties of mixed vegetable ragout. Needless to say, you would have hated it. I would make the usual compliment about being unable to eat another mouthful for the next week, but as I write this the Cook is employed in making a most splendid carrot cake, so I will amend that to being unable to eat for the next... half an hour?_

* * *

'I could teach a horse to learn Norwegian faster…'

'Mr. Linden! If you have nothing nice to say, then say nothing! Miss Smith just needs time and patience.'

'Mr. Oaken, I would completely agree with you, but it has been almost a week now, and all she can recall are the names for food!'

'... I see.'

They reentered the living room, and Anna pretended she hadn't heard a thing.

'Miss Smith,' Mr. Oaken said, smiling, 'do you speak languages other than English?'

'I speak French.'

Mr. Oaken shot his partner a Look that said: _see, she can do it._

'How long did it take you to learn?' Mr. Linden asked.

'Oh, about 2 years or so of biweekly sessions with a tutor? I refresh my memory every few months or so.'

'That isn't bad,' Mr. Linden conceded. 'Perhaps we should continue the lessons.' And then: 'What would you say you miss most about home?' he asked in French.

'The cooking,' Anna replied immediately, also in French.

Continuing the conversation, Mr. Linden raised an eyebrow and said teasingly: 'Oh, are we not up to your usual standards, I take it? Perhaps we should just leave you with 183 chocolate cakes.'

'Non!' Anna cried. 'I-I…'

Her hosts stared at her encouragingly, though one more so than the other.

'I think she's just a little rusty,' Mr. Oaken said to Mr. Linden.

Desperately, Anna tried to scramble for the right words. She'd hated talking to her tutor in French, so eventually he'd modified the lessons so she just learnt a series of phrases- admittedly, mostly centred around food. It made having a conversation difficult, because she hadn't quite grasped the rules of grammar. All those tricky masculine and feminine nouns…

'...Quelle est la date de ton anniversaire?', she said helplessly.

No one spoke.

'I think it would be best if we stopped the lessons,' she said finally. 'I don't think I have the patience that is required for this.'

'Do not give up on your dreams, Anna,' Mr. Oaken cried. 'If you wish to be a translator, you can be one!'

Mr. Linden gave her a pleading look that she really didn't need to read into.

'Somewhere out there is my calling,' she said. 'I will find it eventually.'

 _It's just like love! The first person you meet isn't always the one that is right for you… a harsh lesson, but I have learnt it..._

* * *

 **RAT-TAT-A-TAT-TAT**

'Good morning! Isn't it a lovely summer's day today! I know this might be a big ask, but would you accompany me to the gardens and engage in a game of Lottery Tickets? The day is too fine to stay indoors!'

'...Maybe next week, then!'

* * *

 _Speaking of the maid… I returned to Arendelle to find her sitting in the living room, quite purposeless. You don't make much mess anyway, Anna, but after a cursory sweep of the house she found little that needed doing. I made my own circuit of the rooms, opened and closed a few curtains, and reached the same conclusion. We then went to town and bought a second game of Lottery Tickets. If you need another reason to make a friend, it is so that you can ensure your game-playing skills do not grow weak from lack of use, because you will arrive home to quite a thrashing! I feel as though, by the time of your return, the maid and I will be such seasoned professionals that you may well find yourself in an empty house, the pair of us having adapted to a life touring the country and challenging various households for the title of "England's Finest Lottery Tickets Team". We'd take the Cook with us for a taste of home comforts, naturally. We'll let you put the trophy on the mantelpiece._

* * *

Anna growled in frustration.

Why hadn't the cursed book told her to turn the stupid thing inside out before she began sewing up the hem?

She leafed through the pages, scowling. Why she thought this time would be any different, she had no clue. As a child, she'd despised needlework.

The scowl flickered, and then died, like a candle who glitters in defiance, only to find it is being quite unreasonable, and meekly extinguishes itself.

Right at the top of the page, in big bold letters, was a reminder to reverse the pattern before commencing stitching together the seam.

Humiliated, Anna closed her book, and shoved it under the mattress with the rest of her reading material. The book and the fabric and the supplies were far too expensive to completely abandon.

'Miss Smith? We are going out, would you like me to ask Miss Winters to help you with your sewing?'

 _How did he know I'm a complete failure?_

 _Your track record hasn't really suggested otherwise, Anna…_

 _Be quiet, brain._

'No, thank you!' she called. 'I might ask her for assistance later, but for now I must take a break! My poor, needle-stabbed fingers…'

She was telling the truth. If she was being entirely honest with herself, she'd spent more of the past week threading the yarn through her own index finger than her actual project.

There was also the fact that Miss Winters still did not want to even _speak_ to her, and she'd been at the hotel three weeks now. If they couldn't even have a conversation, how was she supposed to mentor her? Anna was a hopeless case as it was, so sign language would just be another thing she'd flounder at.

There was also the fact that Miss Winters, however much pain she had caused Mr. Bjorgman, and whatever she had done to hurt him so, did not deserve to be lumbered with such a sorry excuse for a protege.

Anna folded away her dress pattern and put it in the same dressing table drawer that had previously housed her first (and last) novel.

Today's interaction with Miss Winters was going to be short and sweet, because, to be frank, her patience was starting to wear a little thin.

* * *

'Miss Winters? How about a game of chess, to shake things up a bit? I'm not all that good at it, but it would just be a bit of fun!... Okay, bye!'

* * *

 _Moving on to Mr. Weaselton… The only warning I had of his arrival was a sharp rap at the door, and sadly he had already seen the maid open the upstairs window, so we couldn't pretend to be out. Well, what nerve that man has! He demanded to see you straight away, and when we informed him that you had gone to Hampshire he turned a wonderful shade of purple! I would quite like to repaint the hallway in that colour, but the maid elbowed me sharply before I could ask him to stand still whilst I fetched her tin of coloured pencils, and matched the correct one to his complexion… Now, I will say one thing about him, and that is that he is most determined. Why, Anna, he had come to get your ring size, not even a full week after your rejection! "In half a year I will ask again," said he, "and everything will have already been arranged, so the wedding need not wait!" I was most taken aback by his presumptive manner! "My dear Sir," I cried, "you are too hasty! I can say, with the utmost confidence, that Miss Smith will not have changed her mind upon her return!" "If she does not accept my proposal," he hissed, "she will never see her fortune, and I will never see her again!" "It appears that Miss Smith has quite a decision to make," said I. "You will refuse to see her if she doesn't marry you, and I will refuse to see her if she does!" He didn't know quite what to make of that, I dare say. But as I said, the man is determined, and he bullied the maid into trying on one of your last season's pair of gloves, so that he could attempt to ascertain your ring size. I have never seen such a fool! The maid's hands are larger than yours, and he had to leave unsatisfied. Between you and me, I believe my hand would have been a closer match, but I would sooner chop it off with the Cook's knife than do anything to help your hideous cousin! I hope you are doing well, and eating something other than cake… Your ever faithful servant, Kai._

* * *

She was quite surprised the paintbrushes weren't aflame.

 _Stupid Hans and his stupid stupid comments…_

'"You can paint, and we'll sell them under my name!"' Anna spat, in a mocking impression of stupid Hans of stupid Almany. 'Yeah, well, you can go screw yourself, you rantallion, because I'm certainly never doing it agai-'

A horrible thought occurred to her.

When she'd awoken this morning, her breasts had been tender, and her appetite diminished.

Too embittered to give it much thought, she'd written it off as the normal signs of imminent menstruation.

But... what if she was carrying his child?

Anna closed her eyes, and took a few deep breaths.

There was no reason to panic. She didn't know for certain, and if she was indeed pregnant, she was sure Mr. Oaken and Mr. Linden would know where she could go to be provided with the necessary… medicine…

Suddenly she was filled with gratitude for Kai's sending her away. She could trust in her hosts' lack of judgement and disapproval, and, most importantly, their discretion. Had she still been in Hertfordshire and required such assistance, word would have eventually gotten out, and she would have had to have left forever, because it was one thing to be a fallen woman, and quite another to be a murderer.

Privately, Anna didn't really view it as murder. She put a hand to her stomach. It was slightly bloated, perhaps, but that could be accounted for by it most likely- most hopefully- being her time of the month. It certainly didn't feel as if she was filled with new, developing life.

The idea made her feel light-headed, and she left her room for a drink of water.

Upon her return, with a slightly clearer head, Anna stared at her new set of watercolours. Having refilled the glass and carried it into her room, she set it down upon her dressing table.

She stared at the smooth blank sheets of paper.

She stared at her watercolours.

She _glowered_ at her paintbrushes.

And then she dipped a small, thin brush into the glass of water, tapped it against the edge, dipped it into the light pink shade of her palette, and began.

It had stopped being about money, or accomplishments.

Now, the intention was to _distract_.

Petrified, Anna attempted to lose herself in painting.

* * *

Sunday rolled around and, unable to face yet more disappointment first thing in the morning, Anna began the day by reading the end of Kai's letter.

* * *

 _ **P.S.** Upon enquiring about the name of the hotel, Mr Weaselton commented that there was reportedly a young woman who has lived there almost a year! Living in a hotel? How dreadful! He said a member of his parish had stayed there a month and only noticed her on his last day, when he heard her sneeze! My dear Anna, if it turns out to be true, she must be terribly lonely. Why don't you strike up a friendship, and invite her to stay with you in Arendelle when it is time to go back? She may turn out to be horrible, of course, in which case ignore my suggestion, but it sounds like she could use a proper home._

 _ **P. P. S.** Who should I see upon showing Mr. Weaselton out the door, than a certain Almain employed in removing his belongings from Netherfield! I like to think that they had a most awkward conversation, don't you? _

* * *

She took the painting out of the dressing table drawer- where it had rested atop the dress pattern-, keeping her eyes averted.

There was no point getting her hopes up.

It was going to be straw again.

 _Maybe now Joan will let me give up on all this "being an Accomplished Woman", and I can finally begin to accept the life of poverty that awaits me..._

Sighing, she glanced down.

Anna paused.

It wasn't half bad.

It wasn't going to win any awards, or hang in any art galleries, but there was definitely potential.

The fearful mood was lifted.

She giggled.

 _I should send this to Hans…_

A title was needed.

Anna thought for a moment.

'" Surprise Attack Of The Parasol (Reprise),"' she announced to the world, scrawling it at the bottom of her work.

 _I only got the chance to hit him with it accidentally, but if I see him again…_

The picture depicted an enraged Anna walloping a grovelling Hans across the back of the head, and his expression was priceless.

 _One day, I'll see that look in real life_ , she promised herself, putting her artwork back in the drawer. She was proud of it, but it was her first painting, so it was to be for her eyes only.

Spirits high, Anna moved to give Miss Winters her usual Sunday invitation to Lottery Tickets-

Two strides in, her stomach cramped, and she double over, wincing.

She felt dampness collect between her legs, and froze.

* * *

This was, by far, the best day of her life.

Not only did she finally feel that she had a purpose, a worthwhile venture to command her attention, but she also got to experience a morning of cramping, bloating, nausea, headaches, bursting into tears because the sun shone through the curtains, and weren't curtains supposed to keep out the sun?, and the soiling of her favourite petticoat.

Having lined a pair of drawers with cloth, she had some opiate, and took advantage of a brief respite from queasiness to go to the kitchen and eat the entirety of that week's chocolate cake in a single sitting.

 _I'm going to regret that later… oh, but who cares!_

The hotel was silent. Anna hummed happily to herself.

The hosts and their children were at the park, so, as Anna wiped the crumbs off the table, she gaily informed the entire universe that:

'I AM NOT GOING TO FATHER A BASTARD'S BASTARD!'

She whooped and cheered.

 _Oh, however could I have been so concerned! His sideburns were bigger than his prick, it's a wonder his semen entered me at all!_

Intending to spend the rest of the day working on a new piece entitled "Crimson: The Colour Of Joy", she skipped to her room-

'Oof!'

* * *

Rubbing her forehead, Anna looked up.

Miss Winters was recumbent on the floor.

Anna gawped.

Curiosity won out over manners.

Initially, she was drawn in by her body, having seen only her face (and a glimpse, at that!) for her entire month's stay.

The dress was a simple dark green mantua with a high neckline, but the cut was immensely flattering to her figure, and it was complemented by long matching gloves. Anna noted in surprise that, despite having been knocked off her feet, Miss Winters' hips and shoulders were perfectly aligned, and her head was straight. Her eyes appeared to be squeezed shut, and she was breathing heavil- no- rather, she was taking slow, deliberate breaths.

 _How Kai wishes my posture was that impeccable!_

Her face… how to describe it?

It wasn't so much her features that entranced Anna. Her complexion was pale, so much so that Anna could see the veins in her eyelids. Her nose was delicate, her mouth full. Miss Winters was beautiful, there was no doubt about it, but what truly made Anna stare, was how she felt when she looked at her, for it was surely illogical.

For some inexplicable reason, it reminded her of how she'd felt at her parents' funeral.

If Anna was forced to sum her up in a word, she'd pick…

" _Perilous"_...

She couldn't have said why.

Her gaze drifted back down to Miss Winters' gloved hands. They were clenched.

 _What a lady she is! To wear such an accessory indoors like that, I can hardly stand them for the duration of a ball-_

'Why are you staring at me?'

Anna jumped, smacking her head against the wall of the corridor so hard the sound resonated.

Their eyes locked for an instant before Miss Winters dropped her gaze to the floor, and, through the haze of pain, the colour of her irises made Anna think of _ice_.

She shivered.

'I-uh- I was just checking you were alright!' Anna paused, rubbing her head with a wince.

She blinked.

Manners finally kicked in, and she leapt to her feet, moving to help Miss Winters to her own-

Miss Winters snatched her hand away as if Anna was a leper, sitting bolt upright like a corpse just risen. She scuttled backwards.

Anna settled for hovering at a safe distance and flapping her arms up and down like a distressed bird.

'Oh my! _Are_ you alright? I am so so sorry Miss Winters, I didn't see you there and I was just so happy and oh this is not how I wanted us to finally meet-'

Her victim got unsteadily to her feet, redoing her updo. She still didn't meet Anna's eyes.

'Miss Smith, it is quite alright,' she declared. 'It was an accident. You have given me no lasting damage.'

Anna laughed, because it was either that or offer another rambling apology.

'Congratulations, by the way.'

'I'm sorry?'

Miss Winters looked up. Anna felt that, when she chose to utilise it, she had a very piercing gaze.

'You aren't pregnant. I am most pleased for you. It is a horrible trap that women find themselves in, whilst the men just get off scot-free…'

Anna's cheeks burned. 'You heard what I said?'

Her face morphed into a look of confusion. '...I dare say the whole of Hampshire heard the first part.'

The front door opened.

Anna froze.

Miss Winters took a few strides towards her room, and then appeared to be taking another series of deep breaths. She edged a little closer to Anna, eyes fixed on a patch of wallpaper above Anna's head.

Mr. Linden entered the hallway, did a double take, and then ran back.

Their voices drifted in from the doorway:

'Mr. Oaken, I do not feel as though my legs have had a satisfactory stretch. Shall we take the children to the gardens for half an hour?'

'Well, you are welcome to go by yourself, but I was rather looking forward to a little sit dow-'

'Let me rephrase that: _we're going to the gardens_. Come along now, children!'

The front door slammed shut.

Anna and Miss Winters blinked.

'...Do-do you want to play Lottery Tickets?'

Miss Winters glanced up.

There was a pregnant pause.

Miss Winters inclined her head.

'Yes, I would be delighted.'

This truly _was_ the best day of Anna's life!

 **Author's Note: a glossary of sorts:**

" **Pickthank" is the archaic term for "sycophant", which I think we all would agree describes Hans perfectly.**

" **Robin Adair" is a song played by Jane Fairfax in another of Austen's novels, Emma. I highly recommend reading it if you haven't already.**

 **Frances Burney, later known as Madame d'Arblay, was one of Austen's favourite authors, and greatly inspired her.**

 **Interestingly, the word "sauna" did not exist until 1881. Frozen was set in the 1840s, but I don't think it's an historical inaccuracy for the writers to use that word, as the characters are technically speaking Norwegian.**

 **When I researched birds that are common in Britain, there were sooo many choices. I had to FIGHT to resist likening Anna to a chiffchaff, but luckily they do not regurgitate food, so the comparison would have been inaccurate. Isn't "chiffchaff" the most delightful name ever? Ah well, I'll save it for my firstborn.**

 **As a bit of "IceCreamIceQueen trivia" [...all I can say is that I thought this website was like Club Penguin, where you must abandon all hope of having a username that actually spells out a real word, so I was quite shocked when I typed in the first thing that came into my head- why I thought of this godforsaken combination of words is anyone's guess- and it got approved. Somehow I feel this is the kind of thing Anna would do if she created an account on this site?] : Anna's experiences with sewing come from my very own empirical data. I picked up the subject dreaming of a career as a fashion designer, found I was quite hopeless at it, and fucked up the hem of my final piece so many times that I dare say I'll never pick up a needle again. Writing it is, then!**

" **Rantallion" is a terrific 1700s insult that is defined as "** **"one whose scrotum is so relaxed as to be longer than his penis, i. e. whose shot pouch is longer than the barrel of his piece." [from "Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue," Grose, 1788]. I highly recommend googling "1700s insults" and checking out the page, because it is a gift that will keep on giving.**

 **Hopefully it's clear, in the part when Anna is painting, that 'lining her drawers' refers to underwear, not her dressing table. Interestingly, underwear was optional in the 1700s…**

 **To go into a bit more detail about Elsa's dress, if you google 'mantua' you get pictures of the dresses being paired with sometimes rather ridiculous hooped petticoats. The V &A website informs me that by the 1780s the hooped petticoat had been "discarded except at court", so she is wearing just a mantua and a regular petticoat in this chapter.**

 **Replies:**

 **The Chronicle:**

 **Firstly, I just want to say that I was just putting the finishing touches to this update, rereading the chapter in Emma where she paints Harriet's portrait- because I wanted to get a feel for how Austen described painting- and it occurs to me that Anna is really quite similar to Emma in this chapter (well, minus certain… language). Honestly, it was completely unintentional. The Chronicle, I do believe you are psychic, you know ;) or perhaps I read your words and together we create some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy? Either way, I was a bit spooked!**

 **I'm most glad that you enjoyed the past chapter. Elsa I feel is going about trying to control her feelings in completely the wrong way, but she will begin to get help in the next couple of chapters, from a certain person we may not have so far met…**

 **I haven't read any Greene myself, is there a particular book you'd recommend above all the others? I've got a bit of a backlog of reading material at the moment (that's putting it lightly), but I will put whatever you say on the list! :)**

 **I can't answer your questions about how they will fall in love because to put it bluntly this is chapter 7 and it hasn't happened yet! I'm writing it as I go, and if they take longer to fall for each other then I expected then I can rejiggle my plan a little, no biggie. The most important thing for me is capturing a sense of realism. At this stage they are still strangers.**

 **Just a quick note about the social backlash again: I said I'd put it into this chapter, but I've moved Anna and Elsa's game of Lottery Tickets to chapter 8 because things were getting pretty long, and Elsa's acceptance seemed like a nice note to leave it at. They're going to trade backstories a little in the next update, of course that is if Anna doesn't knock Elsa to the floor again like the clumsy creature she is…**

 **I really haven't read many Frozen fanfics, which is something that must be remedied! I'd love it if you just go all out and hit me with your favourites!**

 **I began with everyone's fave Stolen Ice. Now, I read it a long long time ago, so I can't say that it's been specifically inspirational for this story, since the details have almost faded (almost- the last 20 chapters or so hurt me so bad that I don't think I'll ever be able to read it again. It was technically a happy ending but jesus christ I hurt so bad at everything they went through). That said, I consider it the best thing I have ever read, published work included, so it's inspired me to keep writing my own stuff.**

 **Now, for a more… 'I love it so much it's accidentally become part of canon' fic, it has to be Anna Summers PA. It's just so perfect, with the way it mixes the happy with the drama with the fluff with the feeeeelllls. To continue on my 'my subconscious wants to get me sued' thing, it didn't even occur to me that I'd got the idea of Elsa's dad being a homophobic dick directly from Anna Summers PA. Capt. Elfy, if you're reading this, just know that I wasn't even aware I was doing it, and hey imitation is a form of flattery right? I mean, this fic is heading in a completely different direction to ASPA anyway…**

 **If you** _ **are**_ **reading this, can I just say that I loooveeee you so much and I reread that fic every other month or so because it just makes me so happy and man you're amazing.**

 **One thing I will openly own up to (talking to both Elfy and The Chronicle here) is that that piece of work was the deciding factor in my choice of alternating POV. I can only hope I pull it off as successfully.**

 **Finally, a couple of days ago I stumbled across Who Dares Wins by Fruipit (that's Frui-pit not FruiT-pit, for anyone who struggled as much as I did… anyway...) Now, this story will not impact the first part of my fic, because Kristoff is gonna be pretty absent until part 2 (sorry guys), but it was like a shot of heroin for my inspiration in really making Kristoff 3D when the time is right. I'm going to work hard to make him more than just a sidekick with no interests or feelings of his own.**

 **Now, I'm going to ask if you could give Fruipit one of your excellent pieces of concrit, The Chronicle, because their story does not have enough attention for the masterpiece that it is. Just to warn everyone, it's a Kristelsanna fic, but a) whilst I haven't walked away from it supporting that ship, at no point did I find myself questioning decisions the characters made, or feeling like the relationship was forced, and b) the most recent chapter made me cry, and not even Stolen Ice had that much of an effect on me. Fruipit's attention to detail is simply astonishing. Go and seek it out, guys, but don't do it just before grocery shopping like me because this shit is** _ **heavy**_ **.**

 **On a non-Frozen-related note, I recently read The Portrait of a Lady by Henry James, and I'm going to have to be reallllly vague so I don't give anything away, but it is the most perfect example of subtlety I've ever seen, and my characterisation has been heavily influenced by it. I really really recommend because the ending had me on the edge of my seat.**

 **I too haven't read or watched any Bridget Jones, but let's pretend I was making a really clever reference, shall we? ;)**

 **Sedryn:**

 **(just a heads up, everyone, it transpires that Sedryn meant to post that rather damning review to another fic. Rather than telling him to fuck off when he PMed me to explain, we began talking, and then he uttered a most magical sentence: 'I really love some philosophy topics...' and off I went sending him thousands of word about Descartes and Bentham and Searle. So, if Sedryn leaves** _ **you**_ **a review like that one, I highly recommend subjecting him to entire essays consisting of nonsensical streams of consciousness, and also guilt tripping him into promising to review your every chapter hereafter. It's much more satisfying than a bit of swearing.)**

 **So, Sedryn, I mentioned in yesterday's PM that I myself do not particularly subscribe to the idea of a 'calling' in perhaps the more conventional sense of the term. I just want to make it clear regarding this chapter that Anna is not my Inspector Goole. She is a very romantic, idealistic person, and I believe she would most definitely believe in each person having one true calling in life.**

 **To Everyone: ****don't be shy! If you want to tell me your feedback about this chapter, I would be most grateful if you left a review. Additionally, if you want to shoot me a PM about literature/ philosophy/ enquires about where this fic is heading, please feel free! I'd love to hear from you!**


	8. Lottery Tickets

**Author's Note: so, life happened to me… but now I'm back! I'm sure this improves your day significantly.**

 **Technically, Lottery Tickets has to be played by at least four people (two dealers and two players), but I'm sure they can deal the cards themselves.**

Lottery Tickets was a queer game.

One could play it every day for four years, and yet be no better at it than someone who had only played twice, because the winning cards were selected randomly.

It was a game of chance.

It was a game of luck.

There was no skill required.

But, if that was so...

How had Miss Smith won twic-

'Another match! I win again! Want to stop for a bite to eat?'

- _three_ times in a row?

 _Her bets are far too bold, surely! How on earth does this keep happening? At this rate there will be no money left!_

 _I am not a sore loser. I am not a sore loser. I am not a sore lose-_

'Miss Winters?'

Elsa shook herself out of her daze, tearing her eyes away from Miss Smith's enviable pile of silver fish counters, and instead looking at her _stupid adorable winning face_ -

'Hmm?'

'A bite to eat?'

'...Yes, that would be lovely, thank you. Chocolate cake?'

Miss Smith shifted uncomfortably beside her.

'Uh, I don't think there is any...'

Putting her cards and tickets down on the table, Elsa bit her lip to hide a smile.

'You ate the entire cake?'

Her companion crossed her arms in a dramatic way that made her want to laugh out loud.

'I was hungry, okay? I'll go and see if we have any biscuits.'

As Miss Smith got up from the table, Elsa began organising her own (much smaller) pile of silver fish into neat little rows. She had to admit that this had been more fun than she could have imagined.

 _Even if I am losing..._

Conversation had flowed easily, something that was mainly down to Miss Smith and her inability to talk in a concise manner. She had lots to say on the subjects of chocolate, parasols, and books, although when Elsa had asked what books she liked, she'd changed the subject…

Not that it mattered. Yes, overall, Elsa was glad that she'd come out of her room, and grateful that her new companion hadn't given up on her like so many had.

 _Not that I deserve it… I was so rude to her…_

Elsa bit her lip.

 _I should apologise._

 _But how can I explain myself? 'I refused to see you out of fear that I would fall for you', yes, that would go down delightfully…_

Miss Smith's voice drifted in from the kitchen.

'I found some apples! Do you like apples?'

'I love apples!' Elsa called back.

 _Maybe I'll just say-_

'Here you go!'

An apple was slammed down next to her.

Elsa jumped violently, sending her silver fish scattering to the floor.

'Miss Smith! Please do not scare me like that!'

'S-sorry! Let me help!'

Miss Smith dove under the table before Elsa could respond, scooping up the counters.

'Mind your-'

'Oof!'

'...Head…'

Rubbing her cranium, Miss Smith emerged from under the table.

'Here you go.'

Elsa took the proffered counters.

'Thank you.'

As Miss Smith sat down again, Elsa started to eat her apple, preparing herself to speak.

'I-' they said at the same time.

'You speak-'

'No, you-'

They burst out laughing.

Miss Smith took a huge bite out of her own apple, cheeks bulging like a hamster.

'Now 'oo have to shpeak.'

Smiling at her companion's comical appearance, Elsa said, 'I must apologise for my earlier behaviour. Ignoring you like that- I- well- I'm-'

'...You're shy?' Miss Smith offered.

 _That's the nice way of putting it. 'Abominable social skills', as my father used to say..._

'I'm shy, yes. It's been quite a while since I've socialised with... well, anyone, really. Thank you for not giving up on me.'

'It was my pleasure. Now, shall we continue the game? I think there's still some money to be won!'

Elsa groaned.

'I might win this time, you know.'

'I don't think so, I've been practising for years. It's all in the technique.'

 **A/N: when they spoke at the same time I originally had Anna whisper 'Jinx!', but it turns out that word didn't exist until 1911. I mean, it's in the film, but then I figured it sounded too American to use here.**

 **Information about Lottery Tickets (that that I could find) primarily came from the website Austenonly- you can find the rules of how to play there.**


	9. The Artist And The Dressmaker

**A/N: this chapter is dedicated to my pal Sedryn, for betaing and listening to my ramblings, and my friend I-AM-SiriusLOCKED for helping with colons and semicolons- 'Yes that works but not because of how you think it works'**

One week later

Ever since her parents' demise, Anna had asked herself, 'what is death?'

Perhaps death was a full stop. Sudden. Final.

Death could, of course, just be a brief interval between life and afterlife, the comma that separated corporeal body from metaphysical soul. Alternatively, it was possible that death was a semicolon; a long, deep sleep before the promise of Heaven. Did death teleport you like an asterisk, or enclose you like a bracket?

What is death?

Pressing a finger against the wound, Anna believed she was about to find out.

 _I'll be with Mama and Papa again… It will be good to see them…_

 _No! I just need to hold on a little longer… Just hold on…_

 _..._

 _But I can't…_

* * *

'Miss Smith! Oh! You're bleeding!'

'I've been bleeding for about five minutes,' Anna huffed. 'You were too busy sewing to notice my peril.'

'Your peril? There is no need to be so dramatic!'

Anna blinked.

'But-'

'Everyone pricks themselves with the needle when they sew! Even I do, on very rare occasions…'

Miss Winters handed her a handkerchief. Anna wrapped it around her finger.

'Now, where were we?' Miss Winters said, as if Anna had not been dangerously close to exsanguination.

Anna groaned.

'Can't you see that I'm utterly hopeless at this? Let me give up, I beg of you!'

Miss Winters ignored her.

'How you got to the age of eighteen unable to sew is quite a mystery. Every accomplished woman should know how.'

'Ugh, you sound like Joan. Why shouldn't men be expected to sew?'

'Joan?'

'...Nevermind.'

* * *

'It… it's not bad, for a novice,' Miss Winters conceded some time later, holding Anna's bonnet trim up to the candlelight. 'I think your problem, from what Mr. Oaken told me, is that you were far too ambitious with your first project. You are only a beginner, Miss Smith. Don't expect to be at my level straight away.'

'I can go to bed satisfied by your high praise, and in the knowledge that your sense of self worth is not inflated in the slightest.'

'Ha! I take great pride in my sewing, that is all. Were I not a member of the gentry, I dare say it would be my livelihood.'

'My livelihood would be painting,' Anna declared. 'I've taken a real shine to it.'

'I can tell.'

Miss Winters laughed suddenly.

'What?'

'Oh, nothing.' She patted her nose with her index finger.

Anna was lost.

'What?'

'You have paint on your nose!'

Hands flying to her nose, Anna gasped.

'Oh, Miss Winters! How cruel not to tell me! I must have come back from the river looking like such a fright!'

Her companion shook her head.

'You do not look a fright. It's… endearing.' Miss Winters smiled at her. 'Why did you go down to the river?'

'It's my latest muse. It's quite fascinating how the river can change appearance from mid morning to late afternoon, or how it looks so different in sunshine and rain. I have four different paintings, but I will show you the one I am most proud of.'

Anna fetched the painting, and they admired it together.

'"The River Itchen, In Summer: 3"', Miss Winters read. 'Why, Miss Smith, it looks exactly like it!'

'How would you know?' Anna blurted out. 'You never go outside!'

She clapped a hand over her mouth.

'I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean-'

'I'm not offended,' Miss Winters said. 'You are quite correct, after all.'

'Why- why _don't_ you go outside?' Anna hedged.

Putting Anna's painting down on the table with the rest of their needlework, Miss Winters sighed.

'My world used to be very large,' she said to Anna's painting. 'I had no brothers or sisters, and indeed no mother, but what I lacked in immediate family I more than made up for in aunts and uncles and cousins, particularly on my father's side.

'We would travel to visit them all over the country- and once we even travelled as far as Norway!- and I was quite happy doing so. I could go into the market in my hometown, and even to the market in many strange towns I had never once seen before, and peruse and buy and be happy as a lamb. I could take long walks with cousins and aunts each and every day without complaint. But I was different back then. Things have changed now.'

Miss Winters looked up and gave her a sad smile.

'I moved to Winchester, and at first I did the walks and the market and the carriage rides to other nearby towns, for I felt that I would go crazy if I did not go outside every single day to get some fresh air. Then I became very ill last winter, and did not leave my room for one whole month. After my illness…'

She sighed, shoulders slumping.

'You just couldn't go outside again?' Anna offered.

'I don't know what happened to me to make me this way. It is quite a curse. I do sometimes wonder if God is punishing me-'

'For what?'

'-but no matter how hard I try, I cannot go outside. My chest gets so tight that I feel as if I might die that very second. I cannot breathe, and it is only once I am inside this hotel that my lungs allow me to inhale again.'

'That sounds most awful!'

'Oh, it is dreadful, absolutely dreadful. I have seen a physician, of course, and he said I was suffering from hysteria. I declined the treatment.'

'Why? Is it unpleasant?'

Miss Winters stared at her.

'Why, surely you know the treatment for hysteria?'

'Enlighten me.'

To Anna's surprise, Miss Winters turned bright red.

'The physician brings the patient to hysterical paroxysm.'

'...He what?'

Miss Winters' blush grew deeper, something Anna hadn't thought possible.

'Well, hysteria is caused by the womb, is it not?'

'...Yes…'

Anna gasped. 'You mean he gets you _pregnant_?!'

Miss Winters frowned. 'What? No! Of all the suggestions…'

'Well, what happens, then?'

'The physician…'

Miss Winters swallowed.

Anna waited.

'The physician… makes the female patient… orgasm.'

'...Was he attractive?'

'I'm sorry?'

'Your physician. Was he attractive?'

Anna winked.

Miss Winters stared at her. Then she gasped.

'Miss Smith- you can't be saying-'

'What a wonderful treatment! Oh, I thought it was going to be some ghastly surgery or something of the like! Miss Winters, you really should try it! It is most enjoyable!'

Smoothing her hair back from her red face, Miss Winters said, 'did you used to have hysteria, then?'

'What? Oh, no. I just enjoy bringing myself to… hysterical pary-whatever.'

' _Paroxysm_.'

'Yes, that.'

'Miss Winters, why are you staring at me like that?'

'...Miss Winters? Are you quite alright?'

Her companion shook herself out of her daze.

'I…'

'I overshared, didn't I?' Anna said. 'I kind of knew it was taboo, but then I thought, well, we're both women here! Nothing to be ashamed of!'

Miss Winters was staring at Anna's right hand.

'Quite.'

* * *

'Sit still now, children. I am sure Miss Smith will not be much longer.'

'I'm almost done!'

Anna selected a pale pink pencil and began shading in their faces, tongue sticking out in concentration.

'I must thank you for doing this,' Mr. Linden said. 'It is most kind of you to spend your morning like this.'

'Oh, it's nothing! Think of it as my way of repaying you for your excellent hospitality.'

'You make me blush,' Mr. Oaken said, trying not to grin. 'You already pay us in money!'

'This is something more personal,' Anna argued, as she coloured in the buttons on one of the children's shirts.

'I will give you another chocolate cake as a thank you,' Mr. Oaken argued back.

Mr. Linden rolled his eyes at their antics.

'Miss Smith, will you make me look pretty?' the smallest child asked.

'You are already quite pretty enough,' Anna told her. 'If I made you any more pretty, no one would look at anyone in this portrait except for you.'

The child giggled.

'...And… done!'

The family crowded round to view the portrait.

'Look papa! That's me!'

'Yes it is, my little snowball. And that is your father and I, ya? Don't we look most handsome, Mr. Linden?'

'We do indeed, Mr. Oaken. Thank you very much, Miss Smith.'

'Thank you!' the children chorused.

'It's my plea-'

Anna stopped, staring at the door.

'Did Miss Winters just go past? She sounded like she was crying.'

Anna's hosts exchanged a look.

'Miss Winters went outside today, Miss Smith. It is a big step for her.'

'Oh! How wonderful! I'll go and see if she's alright.'

She hurried off before Mr. Oaken could object.

* * *

 **RAT-TAT-A-TAT-TAT**

'Miss Winters? I heard you went outside! I just wanted to say that I'm so proud of you. Do you want me to leave you alone?'

Silence.

No, not silence.

Sobbing.

'I'll bring you your lunch in a couple of hours, okay?'

Anna hated leaving her like this, but what could she do?

Miss Winters clearly wanted some time to herself, back in the safe haven that was her room.

* * *

 **RAT-TAT-A-TAT-TAT**

'Do you like carrot soup?'

Silence.

'I'll leave it by the door, then!'

* * *

 **RAT-TAT-A-TAT-TAT**

'Miss Winters? Mr. Oaken wants to know if he should fetch the physician?'

Silence.

'Miss Winters, I know you're in there! I've been wondering where you've been. Did you make it down to the river? It's nice and quiet there, isn't it? Or did you go to the market?'

'I'm fine, Miss Smith.'

Miss Winters' voice was quiet, but not weak.

'Are you really?'

Silence.

No, not silence.

Sobbing.


	10. Spending Warm Summer Days Indoors

**A/N: title is from 'Ask' by The Smiths.**

 _(5 hours later)_

'Ah, she's waking up…'

She hadn't seen the man beside her bed for a long time. His presence, and the harsh, stinging smell that hung in the air, could only mean one thing.

She'd fainted. Again.

When she was first recovering from her illness, she had fainted nearly every time she went outside, even if it was just short trips to the outhouse.

She'd gotten better. Still couldn't go outside without gasping for breath and having to run back indoors lest she collapse, but she was better.

 _I hope this isn't the beginning of a relapse_.

'Mr. Jones,' Elsa greeted. 'How long was I out for?'

'About an hour or two. Miss Anna was very worried.'

 _Anna?_

 _Oh, he must mean Miss Smith._

 _Anna._

 _That's a beautiful name._

 _A beautiful name for a beautiful woman..._

'Did I- did Miss Smith find me, I take it?' Elsa asked.

'Yes. You fainted on your way back from the outhouse.'

Heat rose to her cheeks.

'It is nothing to be embarrassed about. Ladies faint all the time, it's practically in the job description! Now, how are you feeling?'

'Giddy,' she admitted.

'That is to be expected. You had quite a fall.' He paused. 'I see the hysteria is still plaguing you. Are you really sure-'

'I am. The conventional treatment is not for me, if you wouldn't mind.'

'It is a shame, but I respect your wishes.' He hesitated. 'Actually, I remember reading something in the newspaper just this morning about an alternate method. Utter balderdash, if you ask me, but I suppose there's no harm in trying. Let me just fetch the paper for you.'

She read the advertisement:

 _Flynn Rider's "Talking Cure"- No foul treatments,_ _no distressing procedures, just a sympathetic ear. Discuss your worries and ailments in a non-judgemental environment, and watch as session by session they disappear, with the help of Mr. Rider's expert advice._ _Chawton, Alton GU34 1SD_

'What do you think?' Mr. Jones asked.

'It's all the way over in Alton… if I can't even make it a few paces outside, however am I supposed to get there?'

Mr. Jones was silent for a moment.

'It does say "Talking Cure". That would be just as effective via letter as face to face, yes? I suggest you write to him for advice.'

'That is a very good idea, thank you.'

She paid him, and he left.

Elsa fell back onto the bed, exhausted by the brief encounter.

 **RAT-TAT-A-TAT-TAT**

'Miss Winters?'

'You can come in,' she called.

Miss Smith entered the room, her uncertain expression morphing into a wide smile.

'Why, you look ever so much better! At first I feared you were dead, you had hardly a pulse. It gave me quite a fright.'

'I'm sorry for scaring you,' Elsa said. 'Do you want to sit down?'

Miss Smith perched on the end of Elsa's bed. 'I hadn't heard anything from you for a few hours, and I was getting worried, so I opened your door and you were gone! I then ran outside and found you quite still. I called for Mr. Oaken and Mr. Linden, and ran for my vinaigrette box. It made you stir, but you did not wake, and so Mr. Oaken called the physician.'

'Mr. Jones has a new treatment he wishes me to try.' She handed Miss Smith the newspaper.

'That sounds perfect!' she cried. 'You must go! Oh, but how would you get there? Perhaps he could visit you?'

'Perhaps. I must write to him straight away.'

Miss Smith looked at her with pleading eyes. 'A game of Lottery Tickets, first?'

* * *

 _(Three days later)_

 _Dear Miss Winters,_

 _I would be delighted to converse with you by the medium of letters. The main purpose of this "cure" is to talk, after all, and we do not need to meet to do that. You say you suffer from hysteria, and I am most sorry to hear that. Would you mind my asking as to how this came about?_

 _Yours, Mr. Rider._

* * *

She didn't have to, but she decided to tell him _everything_.

 **A/N: ooh, looks like we have a new character! Elsa's going to start getting the help she needs.**

 **CBT wasn't around until like the 1900s, but hey, this guy is just way ahead of his time, okay? It'll be more like conversations than actual CBT techniques, I think.**

 **Hope you're enjoying so far! Please review, I'm happy to answer any questions you may have!**


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